The Music Box
by Magical Irish Dolphin
Summary: Barnabas Collins' plans to transform Maggie Evans into his beloved Josette Collins is disrupted by the ghost of the lady herself, who is back haunting the Old House. But what does her presence really mean for Barnabas, Maggie, and Willie? Obvious AU, and my first multichapter fanfic, containing romance and spookiness. Now Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine**

**A/N:** **T****he story starts towards the end of episode 255 in which Sam Evans finished Barnabas' portrait and gave it to the vampire, and Barnabas is being** **a real jerk to Maggie**

* * *

CHAPTER 1: THE SORROWFUL BRIDE

"Sam, you better brace yourself."

"Well, what is it, Joe?"

At the Old House in the upstairs hall, Maggie Evans was forced to listen to the loving and familiar voices of her father and boyfriend in the foyer down below. These were voices she hadn't heard in a long time, and was beginning to feel she would never hear again. But instead of having a warm and tearful reunion, Maggie's world was instead crumbling.

"The sheriff office found a body on the beach," Joe Haskell told Sam Evans in a choked voice. "They think it could be Maggie."

"Oh, no."

The sadness in Sam's voice shattered through Maggie. She would give anything to tear herself down that shabby staircase and proclaimed she was not that body on the beach. She was alive, and ready to return to the Evans cottage and never leave there again. She desperately longed to be in the arms of her pop and boyfriend, but was instead gagged and being roughly restrained by Willie Loomis, who was forced to make Maggie go through this hell under the orders of his cruel master who was also Maggie's captor.

"But it couldn't be Maggie." Sam said this more to himself than to Joe. He tried desperately to hang on to any last shred of hope.

"They said that the body is unrecognizable," Joe stated numbly. "But... it shares Maggie's build..." he trailed off, his voice choked with obvious sadness.

Maggie had experience some heartbreak in her young life, but nothing as painful as this. The pain and desperation clouding the voices of the two men she loved the most drained her of her will to struggle against Willie's firm grasp. Every muscle in her body grew limb and numb. Salty tears streamed down her face.

Another voice cut through the air, a voice Maggie severely loathed and despised.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Evans," Barnabas Collins interjected gently. "I couldn't help but overhear. I am greatly sorry."

Her captor's false sympathy made Maggie's stomach sickly ill. She continued to lose the will power to struggle against Willie's tight hold.

"Thank you, Mr. Collins." Sam heaved a deep sigh. "But I'm not quite ready to give up hope."

Maggie instinctively could tell by listening to his voice he was fighting back tears.

"We better go, Sam," Joe said with the same numbness as before.

"Yeah," Sam agreed with great reluctance.

"I like to thank you for the portrait," Barnabas chimed in. "And you have my deepest of sympathy."

The monster's lies continued to make Maggie sick with revulsion.

Barnabas escorted the two men out of his front double doors. Maggie's heart tore in pieces as she heard the doors shut. Her pop and boyfriend left without her. Alone, the vampire ascended up the staircase to reach his prisoner and his servant. The three file into the bedroom of Josette Collins, a woman Barnabas loved long ago, and who Barnabas wished to reclaim, even if it meant for Maggie to lose her mind. Willie led Maggie into the bedroom by holding on firmly to her arm. Barnabas removed the gag from her mouth. With tears of despair, Maggie leaned against Josette's canopy bed.

"Have you listen to that, my dear?" gloated Barnabas behind her shoulder. "They think you are dead."

"No," Maggie weeped, refusing to look at him.

She grasped tightly to the bed's banister.

"They'll go to that beach and identify that body as you," Barnabas continued persistently behind her.

Maggie felt hollow over his tortured words.

"Your father will mourn and drown his sorrows, but in time you will be nothing more than a distant memory, even to him."

"No," Maggie protested softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And then there's young Haskell," Barnabas went on.

"No," Maggie weepingly repeated, but the vampire unsurprisingly ignored her.

"Oh, he will mourn you for a time, as well. But then he'll meet a new girl. A girl he will love and marry."

"Stop," Maggie uttered, still leaning against the banister. She still refused to look at him.

"And you will be nothing but a shadow in his mind," Barnabas exclaimed behind her. "As far as the world is concerned, Maggie Evans is gone. She cease to exist. She should only be a fading memory in your mind."

At those words, a fiery resolve rose inside Maggie's chest. She boldly glared at her captor from the bed.

"I'll never stop being Maggie Evans!" she declared.

"Well, it will be a shame if you died," said Barnabas.

He went over to sit on the end of the bed, facing Maggie. Willie remained standing stiffly by the room's double doors.

"You can live so happily as my bride, Josette Collins," Barnabas said softly.

"I'll never be Josette Collins!" Maggie spat at him.

"Well, we shall see about that," Barnabas responded lightly. "I suggest you think about it for a while."

Barnabas got up from the bed and gave his servant an order.

"Willie, take her back downstairs."

Maggie gasped over those words, and cried, "You can't put me back in that room!"

"It's the only place for you to think," Barnabas insisted, acting as if he was being the most reasonable man in the world. "One thinks best in the atmosphere of solitude."

"Please, please, you can't put me back into that room! I'll go mad if I stay in that room!" Maggie desperately pleaded.

"Take her out of here, Willie," Barnabas ordered, ignoring his prisoner's plea. "The sight of her offends me."

Willie came up to the distress captive.

"Please," Maggie begged the servant.

"Don't argue with him, it's no use," Willie gently told her.

He silently led her out of the room's double doors, both feeling dejected. It was hard to believe that a short hour ago, Maggie proclaimed this old and renovated Victorian bedroom as a paradise. At least it was in comparison to the dark dingy basement cell she'd been imprisoned in for the past couple of weeks. In addition to losing her family, Maggie also lost a soft comfortable environment in favor of the frightening shadows. It was all because Barnabas Collins refused to stop clinging to the past.

Alone in the soft candle litted feminine bedroom, Barnabas gazed up at the portrait of his beloved. He wondered if he would ever receive what he most desired.

* * *

Going down the hard musky steps, Willie led Maggie into the dark dungeon that was the basement of the Old House. Maggie wallowed in grief, while Willie felt incredibly numb and empty. An hour ago the servant sincerely felt he was finally making a genuine effort in getting Maggie out of her prison. Transferring her from the basement cell to Josette's bedroom seem like a good start.

Why does everything always take a cruel turn at the Old House?

The basement was as dark as night. It was eerily illuminated by some candles and a burning torch perch on the stone wall by the stairs. They came by the twin coffins, one for Barnabas to retire in at sunrise, and the other... well, the two ignored the second coffin. They both knew who Barnabas attended it for. It seem it wouldn't be much longer when that second coffin will receive an occupant.

Obedient to his master's orders, Willie unlocked and swung open the iron door, and placed Maggie into her cell. Once she made it safely to her bunk, Willie wordlessly headed out the iron door.

"Willie, please, stay," Maggie pleaded to him, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I don't want to be alone."

"I can't, Barnabas needs me," Willie muttered, feeling dead inside.

_But_ _I need you,_ Maggie thought inwardly.

She pictured her pop's face, and her heart continued to break over the harsh reality she would never see him again. Worse of all, he would believe she was dead.

Maggie got off the bunk, and tried to prevent Willie from leaving her. But the servant shut the door on her face. He briefly glimpse her red teary face through the bars of the door.

He left her in her despair, his own conflicted heart breaking for her.

* * *

Upstairs in Josette's lonely bedroom, a mysterious waning light slightly engulfed the portrait of Barnabas' beloved above the marble fireplace mantel. The sudden white light dance along with the glow of the dim candlelights that was lit throughout the room. The incorporeal form morph inside the portrait. It slowly got off its perch and gradually escape its way out of the painting.

It was walking and floating on air, closely inspecting the newly refurbished room with its soft blue colors, and carrying the vivid memories of a lost time.

This phantom felt it was home again. It took the time to examine the freshly cut flowers Willie placed an hour earlier on the table in the center of the room. The phantom felt the flowers' life, scent, and beauty, and found it pleasantly familiar.

The phantom then spotted a beloved music box by the flowers' vase on the table. The phantom somehow got a grip on this item, and promptly floated out of the bedroom.

The phantom gave itself a tour throughout the manor, finding that many of the rooms were not as refurbish - or as beautiful - as Josette's bedroom. Much of the manor was dilapidated, decaying, and in shambles.

The incorporeal form floated its way down into the dark basement, where Maggie's heavy sobbing was clearly audible. The poor girl laid on her stomach on her bunk, mourning over the loss of her pop and Joe. She was also heartbroken over Willie's refusal to stay with her, and her overall loneliness. She was terrified of what Barnabas could possibly do with her next.

A mysterious scent suddenly tickled Maggie's nose. A scent of floral perfume. Jasmine?

The scent made itself so prominently known, it filled up the cell. Maggie sense a presence in the cell with her. A presence she couldn't see, which startled her. She knew someone was there. Sharp tingling music cut through the silent air, causing Maggie to gasped in fright. Out of the blue, Josette's music box sat on top of the wooden crate by the end of the bunk. The lid was open, playing music all by itself.

Maggie's eyes comically bulged. She was certain the music box was left behind in Josette's bedroom from earlier. How could it possibly get here? But with this music, and it's haunted stench of jasmine, and it's frightening unseen presence, Maggie realized who was here with her.

"Josette?" she breathed softly.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Ghost and the Servant**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine**

* * *

CHAPTER 2: THE GHOST AND THE SERVANT

Before Willie could even unlock the metal door leading down into the dreary dark basement, the tingling music of Josette's music box screech into his ears. He needn't to guess what Maggie was up to. She was once again trying to become Josette Collins. Willie found it astonishing that after losing her father and... Haskell, Maggie was still determined to fight for her survival. After what she'd been through, Willie feared Maggie might've lost the will to live. He hadn't wanted to leave her alone in that cell the night before. Her tearful plea to him to not leave her alone haunted him all night.

Seldomly Willie wanted to leave Maggie alone in that cell, but he especially didn't want to leave her alone that night. Willie wanted to be there for her, but an evil and abusive vampire owned his soul. But regardless of that, Willie wondered what would've happened if he did stayed with Maggie. Unlike the man he was before he fatally opened the lid of his master's coffin, Willie wouldn't dream of taking advantage of her vulnerability.

But he knew he would enjoy comforting her and holding her in his arms. Willie was as much of a victim of Barnabas as Maggie was. But the mass difference was Maggie was an innocent and Willie was not. His life as a ruthless punk brought Willie to the mercy of Barnabas, and Willie had been repenting for his sins ever since.

When Barnabas took Maggie as his prisoner, Willie found in her a kindred spirit to share in this hell with him. Even though she didn't belong to him or this place, and he really didn't deserve her, Willie couldn't help but to yearn for her.

He unlocked the door, balancing a tray of Maggie's breakfast on the crook of his arm as he did so. He made his way down into the dark dungeon basement. Dawn had arrived an hour earlier, which means Barnabas was resting in his coffin. Even though his master was in a vulnerable and even precarious situation, Willie wouldn't dare to even think of destroying him. Since becoming Barnabas' slave, Willie contemplated of taking this chance to stake him in the heart, but one resounding pulse of an unnatural heartbeat instantly caused Willie to erase that idea. Willie was more than just Barnabas' servant, he was also his protector and guardian. Whenever he heard that unnerving heartbeat, Willie was reminded who his loyalty really belong to. He had to protect Barnabas at all cost. Whether he liked it or not.

He even prevented Maggie from staking him, even though they would both be free if he allowed her to do it. Barnabas' mental grip on Willie was far too firm to allow Maggie to get rid of her captor forever. As absurd as it sounds, Willie couldn't picture Barnabas being truly dead. If he could choose, Willie would help and even protect Maggie from Barnabas. But the vampire wouldn't let him make his own choices.

Willie passed by the twin coffins and ignored them as he came up to the iron prison door. Josette's music box had gotten significantly louder as the servant came closer to the door. Through the bars of the door, Willie spot Maggie lying hopelessly on her stomach on the bunk listening to the tingling music as if in a trance. The music box sat on the wooden crate by the end of the bunk.

Maggie stared blankly at the simple melodic contraption.

Willie unlocked the door and carried the tray into the cell. He shut the door behind him. Maggie didn't look at him. Either she didn't hear him come in, or she was ignoring him, Willie couldn't tell.

He placed the tray of Maggie's oatmeal on the crate next to the music box. At this, Maggie merely gazed up at him.

"Got your breakfast," the servant said somberly.

He knew Maggie was devastated about the night before. He wish he knew what to do to console her.

Before Willie could do or say anything, Maggie sharply shut the lid of the music box, thus welcomely ceasing that irritating tingling tune. She shot the servant an anxious wide-eyed look.

"You won't believe what happened to me last night," she told him seriously.

"Oh, Maggie, I'm sorry 'bout everythin' that's happened," Willie said sincerely but awkwardly. "I... wish... I... I..."

"Josette came to me," Maggie cut off his rambling.

"What?" Willie cocked his head, stunned.

"Josette came to me in this room," Maggie reiterated. "She scented the room in jasmine, and she played the music box."

"What d'ya mean Josette came to see ya?" Willie demanded dubiously. "She's dead. Deader than Barnabas."

"Her ghost was here," Maggie clarified.

"Her ghost?" Willie raised his brows.

"Yes." Maggie nodded. "Can you smell the jasmine in here? It's practically like perfume."

But Willie didn't get a whiff of Josette's floral trademark stench. All he could smell was darkness and dreariness, with a hint of moisture of some kind. That was what this cobweb infested horror basement smelt to him.

Willie shook his head to Maggie. The young girl gave him a crestfallen look. She glanced at the music box on top of the crate.

"When you took me down here last night," she murmured, "we left Josette's music box in her room upstairs. But shortly after you left, Josette brought it down here to play for me."

"What did her ghost look like?" Willie inquired.

"I don't know," Maggie answered in a small voice. "I couldn't see her. It was more like I sense her."

Maggie knew that sounded completely insane. She feared Willie wasn't buying her story. He cast her a doubtful look.

"Willie, please, believe me."

"I think Barnabas is doin' this," Willie stated with a stiff nod to himself.

Maggie became bewildered.

"How?" She frowned. "Can he become invisible?"

"I wouldn' hold it pass him," said Willie.

"But the jasmine..."

"He wants you to be Josette," Willie cut her off. "Do it to save yourself and to get outta this room."

"But I know it's Josette's ghost!" Maggie argued.

"Barnabas is the one hauntin' this place, not Josette," Willie countered soberly. "He's the only dead guy livin' here."

Maggie didn't say anything. She cast her defeated gaze downward. They both instantly knew they didn't agree on this, and continuing to argue the issue would get them nowhere.

Willie broke the silence. "Eat your breakfast. I'll get the tray after a while."

He left to tend to his chores.

* * *

The day was bleak, gloomy, and overcast. No sunlight filtered in the windows throughout the Old House. Equipped in his working apron and toolbox, Willie entered the parlor and was ready to do some carpentry. While fixing a broken chair leg, Willie was mildly taken aback to find his trusty toolbox was no longer by his side sitting on the floor. It sat innocently under the entryway of the parlor.

Willie frowned. He swore he carried his toolbox in here. On the one hand, his mind was also distracted.

He tried not to dwell too much over the events from the night before and Maggie's plight. He also tried to ignore the newly arrived portrait Maggie's father brought over. It was now placed prominently above the fireplace mantel in the parlor. Willie hung it there. It was a portrait of Willie's master. It was like the portrait was staring down on Willie with the blackess eyes possible.

Willie wondered if this was how Barnabas was keeping tabs on him as he rest in his coffin. Willie shaked off that stupid but perhaps plausible thought. If Barnabas did possess such a power, then he might used the eyes of the portrait in the Collinwood foyer to spy on the Collins family. He might even peep on the governess Victoria Winters, who Barnabas seemed... smitten with.

If that was true, Willie thought that was really creepy. Good thing that Collinwood portrait didn't hang in Vicki's bedroom.

Recovering from that twisted thought, Willie retrieved the toolbox back to the parlor, and began tacking some loose weatherstripping from the bay window in place with some taps of his hammer.

Peering through the bay window, Willie was pleased to find no one unwelcomely hanging around outside the Old House and through the woods. Willie didn't want to deal with someone from the Big House who would inquire about Barnabas' whereabouts, and what he does during the day. Nor does he want to deal with someone from the village to inexplicably dropped by for the sake of engaging in a socially awkward conversation with him. He further didn't want to deal with Sheriff Patterson breathing down his neck in regards to Maggie's disappearance. He didn't even want to see his ex-best friend Jason McGuire, who would warn Willie to not muck up his gigolo blackmail money scam with Mrs. Stoddard, (and shoving Willie around in the process.) Most of all, Willie didn't want to deal with that creepy little kid David Collins. The little brat had a tendency to sneak into the Old House in the hopes of catching a date of some kind with Josette's ghost, or at least her portrait. Between Barnabas and David, Willie wondered what this Josette chick got going for herself. He suppose he'd never know. And Willie realized since becoming Barnabas' slave, he was not as social as he used to be.

Backing away from the window with his hammer in hand, Willie admired his work. He felt a sudden slight chill creeping down his spine. He started.

Gazing down at his hand, Willie realized his hammer had vanished. He stared around the room startled. The toolbox was back sitting under the entryway leading into the room. The hammer laid on top of the roll-up desk by the entrance.

The clock chimed in the hour, but it wasn't perch on top of the fireplace mantel as usual. It sat by Willie's feet on the floor. Willie instantly collected the clock and placed it back on top of the mantel. He searched the room alertly, making sure there wasn't any more misplaced item arrangements.

Willie was honestly befuddled by all this. He either somehow developed telekinesis that uncontrollably activated while he was doing his chores, or someone was messing with him. Due to personal experiences, Willie instinctively knew it was the latter.

But who was messing with him?

Willie icily glared up at his master's portrait. He decided he found his answer.

Willie collected his hammer off the desk and placed it in his toolbox. Stepping up to the front double doors in the foyer with his toolbox in hand, a stench of perfume suddenly wrinkled Willie's nose. It stopped him in his tracks in front of the double doors. It was the sweet smell of jasmine.

Willie became closely accustomed with this smell due to being Josette's favorite. Barnabas constantly ordered his servant to bring in fresh jasmine into the house when Maggie was going through that phase of parading around like a mindless zombie dressed in a wedding gown. But why was he smelling this now? Willie remembered what Maggie told him that morning about Josette's invisible ghost, and smelling her phantom jasmine.

Unthinking, Willie headed out the double doors. He almost felt guilty as he went by those doors. Maggie was always cooped up in this dilapidated prison of a house, while Willie was allowed to wander off in the outside world. But he wasn't doing that because he was free. No matter what time of day, Barnabas had him choked on a chain. Willie was not allowed to enjoy any real freedom. He had labor to do.

He put his toolbox in the shed for the time being, and picked up an ax. It was time to chop for fire wood. It was cool and cloudy outdoors, with salty air from the sea breezing its way through the thick forest trees. It was a little chilly, but Willie needn't his patented windbreaker. Chopping wood was sweaty work, even in cool weather such as this.

Willie proudly chopped a good twenty blocks worth of wood, building up his muscles. But then that persistent jasmine stench started to massage Willie's nostrils. The stench made its presence further known by tingling Willie's senses.

Willie wiped sweat from his brow, and got another whiff of that jasmine perfume. The stench was somehow more intense than it was in the Old House. Willie was flabbergasted.

Just as he raised his ax to chop another block of wood, another phantom attack the servant; Josette's tingling music, courtesy of her music box, rang in Willie's ears. Willie actually felt the music itself floating in the cloudy air, bouncing against the trees in a weird vibration. It was the most bizarre sensation he ever felt in his life. The tingling music also made him irritable. He hated listening to that damn music box all the time. Why does he need to put up with it supernaturally while he was trying to do his chores?

What he saw next actually caused Willie to shriek. He dropped his ax to the damp earth, with the blade nearly chopping off his own foot.

Up on the front porch of the Old House, a ghostly transparent figure danced about the marble columns in a pirouette to Josette's music. It was a feminine ghost with long curly hair, and wearing a long white flowing gown. She floated about with airy grace, while also holding herself with great dignity. The dark cloudy weather even made her glow eerily in a waning white light that reflected off the white porch. Willie's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He felt as though he was experiencing a heart attack. But there was no denying it. He was witnessing a ghost.

The ghost continued dancing on the porch, as if this was natural. A light salty breeze made its way up the porch. It carried the ghost lady and her tingling music away with it. Willie watched as she faded in the dark moisture filled sky, and then she was gone.

A curtain of sleek rain lightly drizzled on Willie as he ran a hand through his short sandy blonde hair.

This was still unbelievable, but he knew he truly saw a ghost. With jasmine still haunting the air, Willie knew who that ghost was.

"Oh, Maggie!"

Willie instantly abandon his chore, and dashed his way to the Old House.

* * *

In her dark cell, Maggie laid hopelessly on her back on her bunk. She blankly stared at the shut music box, which still sat next to her breakfast tray on top of that wooden crate.

Her mind was numb. Her pop and boyfriend likely saw that dead body on the beach hours ago, and concluded she was gone forever. Her heart laid hollow deep within her chest. The cool damp weather made her prison cell drafty, but Maggie was too emotionally drained to be affected by it.

Maggie couldn't help but wondered if Barnabas had his way, she would be cold all the time. Her blank stare remained on the silent music box. The scent of jasmine still floated about in the cell. Maggie was still convinced she got visited by the ghost of Josette, but was beginning to fear she lost an ally in Willie.

Maggie knew Willie thought her mad when she told him about Josette's ghost. But that was not the most troubling thing. Even though about two weeks ago, Willie save Maggie's life from Barnabas, and even boldly stood up against his master while doing so, Willie still harbored a loyalty of sorts to him, despite his master being the way he was. Maggie knew Barnabas hold some mental control over Willie. She herself knew what that was like. But the truth of the matter was Willie was too afraid of Barnabas to truly betray him to save Maggie.

At this thought, Maggie sighed. She concluded she needed to save herself in order to escape from here. But why did Josette's ghost visit her? Before she could further ponder that, a loud noise erupted from upstairs. It caused Maggie to sit up in alarm.

Thunderous stomping rattled the basement ceiling, making Maggie imagine a wild stampede must be occurring up there. Someone stormed the basement steps, and Maggie thought she heard some loud tripping in the next room. The next thing she knew, Willie clumsily barged into her cell, panting heavily, and was slightly damp. He looked he'd completed a race. Maggie also noted he looked incredibly frightened. He had a wild and far away look in his eyes.

"Willie?" Maggie knitted her brows.

She was uncertain on what to make of this odd behavior.

Willie hastily shut the iron door behind him, and uttered breathlessly from the door, "You were right, Maggie. The ghost of Josette is hauntin' this place."

"What?" Maggie gasped softly.

"She was pullin' tricks on me while I was doin' my chores," Willie explained, still panting heavily from his run. He leaned against the door exhausted. "She was movin' my toolbox 'round, and misplacin' my hammer. And the clock on top of the fireplace in the parlor."

Maggie didn't respond. She continued listening to what he was saying as she sat on her bunk.

"Then I heard her music box jingle when I was choppin' wood outside," Willie continued breathlessly. "Then there she was, on the front porch, dancin' 'round the columns to her music. She's a real ghost and I saw her fade away in the breeze. She scared the hell outta me!"

"So she doesn't need her music box to listen to that irritating tune?" Maggie remarked flippantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"But that's not all," Willie added anxiously.

He was starting to breathe a little easier now he was relaxing slightly. He still leaned against the door.

"I smelt her jasmine. She's been buggin' me with that all day, too. I'm even smellin' it right now in this room."

A relieved smile etched across Maggie's mouth. She, too, had been smelling jasmine all day. It broke her heart when Willie told her he couldn't sniff it in the air when she told him she could.

"So, you now believe me, Willie?" she asked warily.

"I believe ya, Maggie," Willie answered her earnestly.

Smiling ever so brightly, Maggie got off her bunk, and graciously wrapped her arms around the servant's middle. She buried her face into his slightly wet chest.

"Oh, Willie, thank you," she murmured.

_Oh, Maggie._

Willie wrapped his arms around her shoulders eagerly, enjoying the pleasant electrical jolt coursing through his body as a result of her grateful touch. Suddenly his heart was racing again, just like it did when he spotted Josette.

But Maggie pulled away from him suddenly, and observed, "Oh, you're pretty sweaty."

"Yeah," Willie replied sheepishly, feeling a little embarrassed. "Choppin' wood is sweaty work."

Maggie chuckled lightly, and said, "I'm sure I'm pretty stinky myself. I haven't had a shower in so long, and I have to wear this awful thing."

She gestured toward her ugly wool black dress Barnabas made her wear since he locked her up in here. She hadn't wore anything else since then, and it long past irritated and sticked to her skin. But if Maggie stank to high heaven, Willie didn't notice, and it wasn't because jasmine clogged up his nose. All he knew was Maggie wrapped her arms around him willingly, gratefully, and in her right mind. He liked that, and that was all he cared about.

"So, you really saw Josette?" said Maggie in awe.

"Yeah." Willie nodded.

"I didn't see her," Maggie exclaimed. "I only sense her presence, and smelt her jasmine. And of course..." she gestured toward the music box on the crate.

"What does she look like?" she asked Willie curiously. "Does she really look like me? I never really thought that portrait of hers looks anything like me."

"I really don't know," Willie said. "She was too far away from where I was. She was kinda fuzzy. She is a ghost, y'know."

"Oh, I see."

Maggie went over to sit on the end of her bunk. Willie followed her, and stood by the crate.

"What does her presence mean, Willie?" said Maggie. "Why is she here? And why is it now?"

"I dunno," Willie replied. "David always says Josette hangs 'round here. I guess the little creep was right."

"I wonder what this means for you, me, and Barnabas," Maggie murmured.

"I dunno," Willie repeated.

He silently decided to check into this. He gazed down at Maggie's breakfast tray, finding she didn't finished her oatmeal.

"Hey, you didn't finish your breakfast," he muttered.

"Your oatmeal is slop, Willie." Maggie scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I'll tell ya what," said Willie. "I'll make ya some dinner, and I promise it won't be slop."

"Is it going to be one of Collinsport's famous gourmet lobsters?" She gave him a teasing look.

Willie smirked at her as he picked up her tray.

* * *

As evening fast approached, Willie creaked into Josette's shadowy bedroom. He completed all his afternoon chores, and kept Maggie company as she ate the canned spaghetti he warmed up for her.

In about twenty minutes, Barnabas would rise from his coffin, and ready to be the creature of the night.

Willie gazed up at Josette's portrait. He hadn't encountered her ghost since that afternoon outdoors. He wondered what kind of person she was in life. Willie had lost count over the endless claims from his master of how perfect she was. But Willie didn't know if she was a kind generous person, or a greedy vindictive snob.

But he decided what he was about to do was at least worth a try.

"Josette?" he said up to the portrait. "I dunno if your a nice lady, but if you could, would ya please help Maggie out? She's the girl locked up in the basement, and she's in big trouble."

The portrait remained perch above the fireplace mantel, lifeless and unresponsive. Willie didn't know what to expect from doing this, but nothing supernatural happened. No misplaced items, no stench of jasmine irritating his nose, and no sign of a ghost.

The blank look of the portrait's noblewoman caused Willie to turn away and groaned miserably. He felt incredibly childish and foolish for doing this, but he was also incredibly desperate to help Maggie. It seemed once again his efforts to help the reluctant vampire bride had blew up in his face. He left the bedroom silently and defeated.

Once he shut the door behind him, a white glow faintly lit up the portrait.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Vampire's Love**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine**

**A**/**N**: **This chapter contain references from some pre-Barnabas storylines such as the murder of Bill Malloy, and Laura Collins the Phoenix, both in which the ghost of Josette participated in. There's also some references to the 1795 timeline**

* * *

CHAPTER 3: THE VAMPIRE'S LOVE

At the arrival of dusk, Barnabas creaked open the lid of his coffin after awaking from an undead rest. His cold stone ancient basement was completely to his liking. All the candles were lit, surely by his servant before his master awoke. The thin blue candles illuminated the vampire's private dungeon in a sinister glow. Deepening shadows creeped up the dark stone walls, and spindly cobwebs stick to the walls and rafters like shabby draperies. But most welcome of all was the enchanting sound of Josette's music box pouring out of the cell of his would-be bride.

Barnabas got out of his coffin and gently shut the lid. The dark suit and tie he rested in were perfectly in place, nothing was disheveled or creased.

Barnabas went over to the iron door, and peeped through the bars. The Evans girl sat on the end of her bunk, listening to the tingling music box. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly. The chill of the basement went completely unnoticed to the vampire. He was impervious to the cold.

"Good evening, my dear," Barnabas called through the bars.

Maggie glanced up by the sound of his voice with a dark look in her eyes. It was like she was trying to veil her innermost fear, and possibly loathing.

Retrieving a key from his breast pocket, Barnabas unlocked the prison door, and invited himself in. He shut the door behind him, and sat himself next to her on the bunk.

"I see you are pleasuring yourself with Josette's luminous melody," Barnabas observed, giving her a deep critical look.

"Oh, yes," Maggie answered, trying to keep her voice sounding natural as possible.

She picked up the music box from top of the crate, and demurely placed it on her lap.

"It's a beautiful melody," she said, trying to mask some uncomfortable awkwardness.

A couple of feet outside her cell, Willie stood silently inside the flickering shadows, eavesdropping on their conversation. He wore his windbreaker to feebly warm himself from the chill of the house.

"You seem ready to depart from your previous life," Barnabas observed.

Maggie hardened her expression. Losing her pop and Joe was excruciatingly raw to her heart, but she knew she needed to keep going on. Pop would have wanted it that way.

"My old life is gone," she conceded to the vampire.

She cast her soft chocolate gaze down on the playing music box on her lap.

"My life is here with you now."

"I'm so happy to hear you say that." Warmed by her words, Barnabas gave her a soft look. "You'll be so much happier as my Josette than being that common girl you were before."

"Yeah," Maggie said simply, returning her gaze back to him. "I feel like Josette is with me all the time. With her music..." She smiled down softly on the music box. "... and her jasmine." She returned her gaze back to her captor. "Can you smell it?"

"Smell what?" Barnabas frowned.

"Why, the jasmine," Maggie answered lightly, trying to make this both innocent and seamless as possible. "The smell of Josette's jasmine is all around us."

Maggie studied her captor's face, seeing if there was any indication that he could smell the phantom scent, too.

Barnabas merely nodded to her, and said, "You are starting to embrace Josette."

Maggie took that as a sign he couldn't smell the jasmine. Out of her cell, Willie also picked up on that. Was Josette shielding herself from Barnabas?

In the cell, Barnabas gently took Maggie's hand, and placed a soft kiss on top of it. The brush of the vampire's icy lips caused Maggie to pull her slender hand away from him. Barnabas cast her a deep and severe warning look.

_"That,_ you need to work on," he hissed.

He shot off her bunk, and stormed out of her cell. Maggie was left a little shaken. She shut the music box lid, and placed her cold hands and throbbing forehead on top of it. A wave of despair coursed through her soul.

* * *

Willie was able to sneak out of the basement before Barnabas stormed out of Maggie's cell. His heart racing from adrenaline and fear, the servant began lighting some candles on the candelabra in the parlor. Willie almost panic when he overheard his master lashing out at Maggie when she flinch away from his kiss on her hand. But when he realized his master was storming his way out of the cell, Willie decided to get the hell out of the basement.

Thinking back on what just occurred, Willie wished Maggie would stop flinching away every time Barnabas place a kiss on her hand. Granted, Willie didn't get that old gentlemanly custom himself, but he understood it was very important to Barnabas. His master takes it personally every time Maggie rebuffs him like that. Even though he hated to encourage her to play along in Barnabas' sick fantasy, Willie decided he needed to tell Maggie to stop failing that major Josette test if she wanted to get out of here.

Speaking of Josette, Willie hadn't sense her presence anywhere. He stared around in the eerie candle lit parlor to make sure there was nothing amiss. The clock was still perched on top of the fireplace mantel, which burns in a bright yellow glow below, and all the other items were neatly in place. The furniture were still in their usual spots unchanged, and there wasn't even a misplaced candlestick.

Willie could still smell Josette's jasmine, though, but the scent was weaker than it was that afternoon. Willie wondered what became of Josette's ghost. He also wondered if he should be disheartened by her lack of presence, since he actually went to her portrait and pleaded with her to help Maggie.

"Good evening, Willie." Barnabas emerged from the shadows of the house, and stood under the entrance of the parlor. "Is there anything to report?"

Still lighting candles with his match, Willie didn't look at him. Blocking out images of Josette's ghost dancing around the front porch columns from his mind, Willie lied meekly, "No, Barnabas."

Barnabas cast his servant a critical dark look. Willie knew what he was thinking. His master was inwardly debating with himself if he should pressed his servant if he was being truthful or not.

Sensing this, Willie said in a voice he hoped sounded reassuring, "No one came by today, Barnabas, I swear it."

The dark look in the vampire's eyes were uncertain. Willie figured he couldn't smell the faint jasmine in here, like in the basement. Seeming to reach a conclusion, Barnabas gave his servant a curt nod, and said, "I'm heading out for the evening."

He went straight to his coat rack in the foyer, and put on his cloak-like overcoat.

Willie stood under the parlor's entrance, crossing his arms over his chest, and asked, "Where are you goin'?"

"What business is that of yours?" Barnabas responded haughtily, as he straightened his coat around his shoulders.

"Just wonderin'." Willie shrugged. "Ya want me to do somethin'?"

"Patrol the grounds and guard the house while I'm gone," ordered Barnabas.

His coat in place, Barnabas collected his wolf-head cane.

"Where ya headin' Barnabas?" Willie persisted from the parlor entrance.

"Willie, I don't need to inform you of my affairs," Barnabas said affronted.

"No, but you usually need me to clean up after 'em," Willie countered reasonably.

Barnabas glared at his servant, and said, "Willie, you really need to remember that you are beholden to me, not I to you. And I don't need you to clean up after me tonight. I'm merely going to Collinwood to see the family."

"And Vicki," Willie uttered, placing his hands on his hips.

He gave his master a knowing look. Barnabas didn't seem deterred by his accusation.

"Miss Winters is a lovely girl," he exclaimed simply. "Her fascination with the past and her ability to listen to faint whispers from another time is truly enchanting."

"A perfect Josette," Willie conceded softly.

"What are you getting at, Willie?!" Barnabas demanded.

"Barnabas, why are you spendin' all your time with Vicki?" Willie asked evenly. "Ya got Maggie downstairs."

"Miss Evans is putting up a resistance to become my Josette," Barnabas answered silkily.

"Her father and Haskell thinks she is dead," Willie gently argued. "You need to give her time."

"I gave her plenty of time," Barnabas spat. "We both know what will happened if she doesn't submit to my desires."

"Yeah." Willie nodded mournfully. "And Vicki will be her replacement."

"Vicki will come to me willingly," insisted Barnabas. "She will make a lovely addition to this household."

"Yeah, but she won't be the same," said Willie meekly. "Like Maggie."

Barnabas gave his servant a piercing sharp look, and said, "Is there anything you're not telling me, Willie? I got a distinct impression that you are withholding something from me."

Growing slightly panic, and fearfully eyeing the cane in his master's grip, Willie tried putting up his defenses, and answered shakily, "No! I'm not keepin' any secrets from ya, Barnabas, I swear!"

"You better not be lying to me, Willie!" Barnabas warned, gripping his cane tightly. "Patrol the grounds and guard the house when you return."

With that, the vampire swiftly exit the house, and stepped out in his natural habitat that was the night. With his master's departure, Willie leaned against one of the pillars by the parlor's entrance, and heaved a deep sigh of relief. For a moment there, Willie sincerely thought he would be at the mercy of that damn cane. If anyone would've told him a few months ago that he would not only be a slave to a vampire, but would also engage in moral arguments with him, Willie would laugh in that person's face. Oh, how times have changed.

Like the loyal servant he was, Willie stepped out of the Old House to patrol the grounds. Once he shut the door behind him, Josette materialized at the top of the staircase.

She witness the argument between the two men, and upon watching that, the ghost lady felt her beloved had certainly change drastically. She also thought his relationship with that servant boy was vastly opposite of his once great friendship with Ben Stokes.

* * *

_I_ _was_ _a Collins; why didn't you protect me?_

Those venomous words clung to Josette since that fateful night Barnabas impossibly barged into her domain, and banish her from there. The legend of Widows Hill condemned Josette to haunt Collinwood, a position she didn't particularly fancy, but she did befriended that special boy David Collins, as well as the widows, and that man Bill Malloy, who helped Josette, along with the widows, to rescue the current Collinwood governess Victoria Winters from a very human monster.

Not long after that, Josette aided Vicki to rescue the boy David from his mother, who was a monster of a different sort.

Then the chains binding the family's terrible secret were broken, and the devastation of the family curse, combined with self-loathing and regret, transformed Barnabas Collins into a dangerous and bitter monster. There was nothing Josette could do to prevent that from happening, but she could at least try to prevent the curse from causing more tragedy.

Barnabas may had banish Josette from the Old House, but it didn't put her to rest in her grave, which was something she deeply craved, but she didn't get her wish.

Josette had observed what had conspired at the Old House, and once again, betrayal, tragedy, and evil transpired there. By luck and chance, Josette had succeed in breaking through Barnabas' banishment, and ever so slowly, felt she would eventually become strong enough to take control of the Old House. But Barnabas was still its master. Josette needed to change that.

It took every energy she had to make certain Barnabas hadn't sense her presence. She hated what she was about to do, given the betrayal behind this action, but Josette couldn't see any other alternative.

She needed the aid of another ghost. The widows couldn't help her, they had plans for the current mistress at Collinwood. And Bill Malloy was at peace now the truth of his murder was revealed in the land of the living.

Since Barnabas' banishment, Josette discovered she was no longer bind solely to the Collinwood estate. She was free to wander anyplace as she wished. She found this to be a welcome freedom. She decided to use this newfound ability to visit Eagle Hill Cemetery. The cemetery was every bit as aging as the Old House. Everyone buried there died a little over a century ago, and some of the tombstones were crumbling slightly in decay. It was shrouded in a thick mist, and the cloudy night plunge it into pitch darkness.

Josette's ghostly form was weak and transparent. A waning white light glow around her as she creepily glided her way through the mist. She floated by grave after grave of forgotten members of the Collins family, as well as other denizens from Collinsport's past, some who were put to rest before and after her time.

Scouting ever so closely, Josette finally spotted the grave belonging to a spirit who was as frightening and powerful as they come. He was so terrifying, he actually made her witch of a servant petrified in fear. He was what Josette needed to reclaim the Old House.

The ghost lady knelt beside the grave of her husband. A husband she required through savage manipulation from her witch servant, only for Josette to lose him in mindless bloodshed. Josette still carried sorrow for those days, even though her and her husband's union was a direct influence of a spell. She couldn't nonetheless forgive herself for breaking her true love's heart, and destroying a deep family bond.

_"My darling Jeremiah,"_ the ghost lady murmured softly. "_I hate to disrupt your rest, but_ _I need your strengths, for his banishment has made me weak."_

Visiting his grave like this, Josette couldn't help but reminisce about the night of Jeremiah Collins' death. His ghost, even with his whole head bandaged up after suffering a blow from a heated duel, visited her bedside. It was one the most horrible nights in Josette's short life. But that was part of the sea of horrible nights Josette's servant girl caused for her once they arrived at Collinwood. Shortly after Jeremiah's demise, the young widow used to sent flowers to his grave practically everyday, and whispered a silent prayer. Josette sort of felt she was doing just that, only she hadn't brought any flowers, and she no longer carried a heartbeat. She was now in white with a matching flowing veil, whereas before she was in black.

"_I can't believe this has happened. The family's most terrible secret is unbound from his chains. He banish me from my home, Jeremiah, and the family is in danger. He drained me of my power, and_ _I need your strength to help me reclaim my home."_

Josette placed a delicate transparent hand on top of the hard earth of her husband's grave. She hoped Jeremiah's dead withered hand would violently burst out of the ground, liked it had so very, very long ago. She liked for his hand to grab her own so she could pull him out of his resting place.

_"The curse is worse than ever, Jeremiah,"_ Josette said sadly. _"We shan't let the curse to continue to destroy, Jeremiah! We shan't!"_

Despite the ghost lady's desperate plea, the grave laid unresponsive under her.

_"Oh, please, Jeremiah."_

Through her disappointment, the breeze suddenly shifted in the air, gently rustling the leaves on the trees. Through the thick mist across the graveyard, Josette sense another presence. Someone among the unliving.

The ghost lady rose from her spot, and breezed her waning transparent form through the mist. At her own grave site, Josette happened upon a visitor. A visitor who couldn't see her. It was Barnabas.

He lovingly knelt beside her grave, and tenderly placed a bouquet of jasmine under her tombstone.

"After all this time, through my years of imprisonment, I still incurably yearn for you," Barnabas whispered softly.

_Oh, Barnabas._

The breeze carried Josette's soft whisper through the murky air. Barnabas heard her whisper as the breeze blew by him, gently billowing his coat. He stared around, finding the graveyard deserted. No one was in sight, not even that mad caretaker.

As she departed, Josette came to a realization. Even though it brought her great sorrow how her servant girl transformed Barnabas into a monster, and he was performing acts of evil, Josette was still nonetheless in love with him, as he was with her. Centuries had passed, and Collinwood and the town of Collinsports may had change, but there was still some things that remained the same, no matter how brutal a curse, or how divided they were in death.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Plans of the Lost Lenore**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine**

**A/N:** **First of all,** **I want to thank you** **all for the wonderful feedback, follows, views, and faves.** **I greatly appreciate it, and** **I hope you will continue to enjoy the story. To answer one of my lovely reviewers question, the title of this chapter is not** **a reference to Quentin Collins' daughter (and Chris and Amy Jennings' grandmother.) It's actually** **a reference to the classic Edgar Allen Poe poem "The Raven." The unidentified narrator mourns for the loss of his Lenore, very much how Barnabas mourns for the loss of his Josette. Josette is the Lost Lenore in the title. But** **I understand that theory.** **I like the 1897 timeline myself. Anyway,** **I hope this clears it up. Now onward to the chapter. **

* * *

CHAPTER 4: THE PLANS OF THE LOST LENORE

The stormy village of Collinsport changed drastically in the nearly two centuries since Josette was tricked to throw herself off Widows Hill. She floated down a busy street filled with loud moving machines with strange black wheels and blinding lights. These machines also made a loud unpleasant noise, which was occasionally accompanied by an even louder blaring horn. These noises would've startled Josette if she was still alive. But she was not alive anymore.

Black smoke was released from the back of these machines that would normally make Josette choke if she had the ability to breathe.

The ghost lady had seen these loud and strange moving machines before. She observed the current members of the Collins family come and go from the great estate steering these devices. It obviously had the ability to transport people. Josette believed these loud and imposing machines were called automobiles, or vehicles, or cars. She wasn't sure which was the correct word for it, but either way, being assaulted by a fleet of them made her immensely disliked them. Several of them rudely drove through her lithe transparent form as she tried to explore the change village.

By some miracle, Josette fortunately spotted a grizzled middle-aged fisherman riding down on a horse-drawn buggy filled with fresh fish with ice in the back. The fisherman was holding the reins of a single old brown horse. The gleaming white glow shrouding Josette lit up brightly when she caught sight of this. She smiled broadly, and shot her ghostly form up in the moisture air, and high above, gracefully floated down and sat herself next to the blindly oblivious fisherman in front of the buggy. Even though Josette was used to riding in glamorous horse-drawn carriages, she mused that these loud contemporary machines would ever replace the romance of a simple horse and buggy as a means of lovely transportation.

Riding along in the buggy, Josette was mesmerized by some bright colorful lights that were not part of the village during her time. The bright green, yellow, and red lights seem to harbor some ability to dictate the moving horse-less machines, and the horse buggy itself, on when to stop and when to go. Josette wondered how these mere lanterns could hold such incredible power. But that was not the only thing that changed. The road itself was smooth and not cobblestone. Some of the buildings old world colonial architecture had changed with the power of time, but some of them remain timeless.

When she spotted the Collinsport Inn, a powerful memory crept up to Josette. That was where she and Jeremiah had their honeymoon, and hid themselves from their families. Josette recalled the passion filled nights, but now had a better understanding that a mere spell was the cause to ignite that passion. She remembered the pitchfork mark adorning the back of her and Jeremiah's hand. Josette was still deeply disappointed by Jeremiah's rejection at his grave site, but decided to put that aside, at least for the moment.

A bolt of lightning cut across the dark cloudy sky, slightly startling the old horse. The fisherman had to halt his buggy to soothe the animal's shaken nerves. Josette realized the docks were nearby. She floated from the buggy, and headed toward it with her white flowing gown and veil billowing in the chilly salty breeze. The darkened sky was filled with heavy moisture, and the salty wavy sea intensified it.

Arriving on the docks, Josette observed the fishing ships out on the shadowy murky sea from the railing. She remembered fondly the day she stepped foot on the docks after her long voyage from Martinique. Even though ships had dramatically changed since that day, the people from this village still lived by its core values; being hard-working, and being men of the sea.

Josette decided to further explore the docks, curious to see what else had changed.

She happened upon an old tavern, while some fishermen drunkenly exit. Josette's eyes alight in recognition. She believed this pub was called The Eagle. But the sign stated it was called the Blue Whale. In her humble opinion, Josette highly felt that blue whales were not as graceful as eagles, but then shrugged and reminded herself this was a fishing village. She floated through the walls of the tavern, and found a very humble and dingy establishment on the other side.

In her own timeline, Josette never really went to The Eagle much. She knew it was the sort of pub meant to attract fishermen, sailors, and lowly prostitutes. She normally didn't enter places like this, but she felt compelled to. This place still carried a low-end atmosphere of sorts, but there wasn't many people around. Only the barkeep, a man in a business suit sitting at one of the round tables, and two men sitting on stools at the bar drowning their sorrows.

Josette decided to further explore the pub. Due to being invisible, she needn't worry to ward off unwanted advances. And since she wore a flowing white gown with a matching veil, Josette looked utterly out of place.

The place was dimly lit, and a strange device which looked to Josette to be a giant music box sat across from the entrance. It was blaring some rather strange music. The melody was an instrumental piece performed by strange instruments Josette never heard before. As she curiously floated nearer to inspect this, the ghost lady got a closer glimpse of the two men sitting at the bar.

Josette was completely thrown. The two men had the exact same resemblance of two men she knew long ago. The younger of the men, who was tall, handsome, and had dark hair and blue eyes, looked astonishingly like Lt. Nathan Forbes of the U.S. Navy. Josette hadn't known Lt. Forbes very well, but this young man bear an uncanny resemblance, even without the Navy uniform. The older, pudgy, and grizzled companion of the younger man reminded Josette of her dear papa Count Andre du Pres. Granted, her papa hadn't worn a shaggy beard like this man, and this man clearly wasn't a Count, Josette couldn't help but smile nonetheless.

But still, it was only a resemblance. This man was not her beloved papa, and the other was not Lt. Forbes. They were only mere identical strangers to them, like that girl Maggie was to Josette herself. Josette deeply noticed this town was filled with identical strangers, and the Collins family was further filled with them.

As she floated right by them, Josette heard them murmuring something about a dead body on the beach. It seemed another ghost now resided in Collinsport. Josette came up to the elaborate music box, and placed her delicate transparent hand through the device's exterior. She felt various spinning traction moving in a circular fashion throughout her hand. This caused the music to come out distorted and miss a couple of beats. The two men at the bar, along with the barkeep, and the other patron, blearily looked up at the machine dumbfounded by its apparent malfunction. Josette pulled her hand out of the contraption, giggling amused. The patrons and the barkeep, of course, were oblivious to her presence. Once the music box got itself back in working order, the patrons returned to their drinks, and the barkeep started wiping the bar counter.

As Josette was about to fade away from the tavern, the man who resembled her papa uttered something sadly.

"I still can't believe she's really gone, Joe."

"I can't believe it either, Sam," Joe replied, taking a giant gulp from his long bottle.

"I just can't believe that bod... I can't believe that was Maggie!" Sam shakily shook his head.

"I don't know what to believe," said Joe miserably, rubbing the rough contours on his brow.

At this, Josette listened closely. They were obviously speaking about the girl Barnabas had locked up in the cellar.

"She still has to be out there somewhere, Joe, she just has to be!" Sam declared, trying to keep his obvious mourning voice strong.

"I just can't get over that poor girl on the beach," Joe murmured, his eyes widening in a far away look.

"Are you giving up on Maggie, Joe?" Sam pressed.

"Oh, I don't know." Joe rubbed his contours again. "I don't know how long I can be optimistic like you, Sam. It has been nothing but day after day of no news, and dead ends."

Sam suddenly got a whiff of a sweet scent wrinkling his nose. Joe noticed this reaction, and asked, "Is there anything wrong, Sam?"

"Do you smell that?" Sam frowned.

"Smell what?" asked Joe.

"That smell," Sam exclaimed with a puzzled look. "It's something sweet. Something floral. Jasmine, I think."

Joe scoffed, shook his head, and took another gulp from his bottle.

"That's not what I smell," he responded.

As she faded away, Josette hoped her scent would somehow console the grieving father that looked very much like her own.

* * *

Lightning lit up the dark cloudy sky on Widows Hill, as heavy showers pounded down onto the Collinwood estate, accompanied by booming thunder. Despite the dark storm, dawn would be arriving shortly, and Barnabas Collins would soon rest his day away in the safety of his coffin.

Josette breezed about in a pirouette around the columns on the front porch of the Old House. Since fading away at the Blue Whale, Josette felt tremendous sympathy and sorrow for that girl's family, but in order to change the matter of events, Josette needed to gain control of the Old House. Even though she couldn't persuade a powerful phantom like Jeremiah to her side, Josette highly felt she could take small steps to gradually build up her own powers again.

After listening to the rhythm of the storm, Josette dematerialized her way through the old walls of the manor, and made her way to the servant quarters. It was probably the most in disarray and squalid section of this once glorious home.

She materialized into the shabby bedroom of Barnabas' servant boy. The ghost found him sleeping restlessly on the floor, nestling under a moth-eaten blanket in front of his own burning fireplace, which eerily glow throughout the dark room. The room was drafty, and pellets of rain mercilessly assaulted his window outside. Josette figured he only sleeps like this so he could keep himself warm. She floated down to the sleeping servant on the rough floor, and knelt beside him. She examined his tall lanky features and ran a soft cold hand through his sandy blonde hair, which caused him to startle in his sleep.

She murmured softly, _"You called to me for help, servant boy. You are quite concerned_ _for that girl in the cellar."_

The servant began tossing his head back and forth, moaning, but Josette remained where she was stroking his hair.

_"You are quite enamored with her, aren't you?"_ she continued. _"Do you know what young men do for the ladies they fancy? They do something nice for them. That is what you shall do for that poor girl in the cellar."_

The servant remained tossing and groaning in his sleep as a result of her touch and voice. But Josette continued stroking his hair. She felt the icy will crushing power Barnabas held over him, trying to block her out of the servant's troubled subconscious. But she wouldn't let that stop her.

_"You shall present her with_ _a romantic breakfast,"_ Josette persuaded. _"That will be_ _a lovely gesture._ _I'm quite certain she will fancy you over it."_

Piercing bright lightning flash across the window, and the shutters bang loudly against the rough wind. This caused Josette to remove her cold hand from the servant's head. She levitated up toward the ceiling, looking down on him. He seemed to be calm once she stopped stroking his hair. He ceased tossing, and began groaning softly. Josette faded out of his room silently, uncertain whether or not she persuaded him to listen to her.

* * *

Early morning light peered down onto the Old House behind the stormy clouds, which finally ceased pouring its storms. Widows Hill was peaceful and serene once more, with the soft waves crashing on the rocky shores.

When Maggie awoke from her restless slumber in her dark prison, she heard the lid of her captor's coffin being closed in the next room. Since Maggie's cell didn't contained a window of any kind, or a clock for that matter, the creaking closing sound of that nearby coffin could only indicate that it was dawn.

Maggie hurried over to the iron door and peered through the bars. Strangely, she didn't see Willie anywhere. He'd usually came down to serve her a tray of a pathetic breakfast.

The ghost of Josette materialized in the cell, but Maggie couldn't see her. Josette didn't want her to. The ghost, however, scented the cell with her favorite flower. Maggie caught a whiff of this, and turned away from the door quite surprised. Josette then went to open the music box lid on it's usual spot on the crate, and it's ever present tingling music filled up the cell.

Maggie's eyes bulged. That was the second time she saw the music box opening itself up for the sake of playing its melody. Maggie rushed over to the crate, and grasped the musical trinket. She stared around the cell alertly, and uncertainly called, "Josette?! Josette, why are you here? What are you trying to do? Are you trying to tell me something? Are you trying to _help_ me?"

But the captive didn't get an answer. Josette remained watching her though, as Maggie continued listening to her music on the bunk, trying to better understand what Josette's haunting means for her.

The sound of a turning key broke Maggie out of her ponderings, and Willie emerged through the iron door into the cell. Maggie shut the music box lid, placed it on its usual spot on the crate, and spotted a plastic bag in Willie's grip.

Josette watched him narrowly, shielding herself from his vision. Willie couldn't see her anymore than Maggie could.

"Mornin,'" Willie muttered to Maggie from the door.

"Good morning," Maggie uttered, closely eyeing the bag. "What's in there?"

Willie shut the door behind him, and pulled a small paper box from out of the bag.

"I got ya some breakfast," he said simply.

_"What on earth?"_ Josette observed with a bewildered look.

Maggie, however, recognized the box's decorative design, and said, "You got that from the bakery in town?"

"Yeah, I thought ya would like it," Willie replied. "I figured ya must be gettin' real sick of my cookin', since ya hardly eat it anyway."

_"Servant boy, are you even accustom to what_ _a romantic breakfast is?"_ Josette said shrilly.

Even though she knew the servant couldn't hear her scolding, Josette couldn't help but to voice her puzzlement nonetheless.

"_A romantic breakfast is served on_ _a polished silver tray, and there are eggs, ham, and strawberries. They don't come with_ _a hat box being delivered in_ _a bundle!"_

Willie gave Maggie the box, and she opened it eagerly sitting on her bunk. She opened up a creamy well baked cinnamon roll. The sweet aroma was nicely pleasant for the captive, especially since she gotten real sick of constantly smelling the jasmine perfume.

She grinned up at Willie, and said graciously, "Thank you, Willie. This is really nice of you."

_"She likes it?"_ Josette's jaw comically dropped.

"I'm glad you like it." Willie grinned.

He was obviously pleased she liked his spur of the moment breakfast decision. Willie didn't know what compelled him to do this, but he was glad he did it. But he won't let Barnabas find out about it. He gave her the plastic fork from inside the bag so Maggie could properly dig in.

"_A romantic breakfast has certainly change,"_ was all Josette could say.

"I see it still smells like jasmine in here," Willie observed, staring around in the dank cell.

"Yeah, but Barnabas couldn't smell it last night," Maggie informed him.

She took a fork bite of her warm and creamy cinnamon roll.

"I know," Willie filled in.

"And _that _started playing by itself again." Maggie pointed at the music box on the crate.

"So, Josette is still hauntin' ya, then?" Willie asked, furrowing his brow.

"It seems." Maggie took another bite of her cinnamon roll. "Haven't you seen her ghost?"

"Not since yesterday afternoon." Willie shrugged sheepishly. He ran a hand through his sandy hair. "Maybe she likes you more."

"I guess," Maggie muttered. "She doesn't seem to like Barnabas much. She seems to hide from him. I can't say that I possibly blame her." She shrugged.

As the two further pondered over the mystery of her presence, Josette floated through the brick wall beside Maggie's bunk, and hovered her way down the dark cobweb infested tunnel of the secret passageway. Her glow slightly illuminated the pitch blackness of the passage.

_"That servant listen to my persuasion,"_ she said in wonder, rubbing her chin. _"He did it in_ _a rather informal way, but he did it nonetheless._ _I still harbor influence over this house."_

Josette smiled proudly to herself, and declared, _"If_ _I can persuade that servant, then surely_ _I can persuade Jeremiah." _

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Supper Courting**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine**

* * *

CHAPTER 5: THE SUPPER COURTING

The usual guitar chords droned out of the jukebox as Willie sat at the bar at the Blue Whale miserably gulping from a long bottle of beer. But he wasn't at the tavern because it was his off hours. In actuality, Willie was following an order.

When his master arose from his coffin at the arrival of dusk, Barnabas ordered his servant to follow Vicki. Apparently, Barnabas heard that the governess was going on a date with her honest-to-goodness boyfriend Burke Devlin. Barnabas wanted Willie to watch them, and report how their date went.

Willie was forced to do all kinds of harrowing acts since he became Barnabas' servant; attack girls, buried bodies, sent a bunch of cute innocent farm animals to their doom, but there was something exceptionally degrading in doing the actual stalking of a girl his boss liked.

Willie, naturally, protested this, but Barnabas severely reminded him he didn't have a will of his own anymore, and the vampire choked the servant's windpipe to make his point known.

Another reason why Barnabas assigned Willie to stalk Vicki was so Barnabas could be alone with Maggie. Barnabas seemed determined to decide once and for all if Maggie was worthy of the name of Josette. He wanted to decide this without Willie around to either protect her or tried to talk Barnabas out of killing her if she was unworthy.

Willie, of course, didn't want to leave Maggie alone with his master for obvious reasons. But his master gave him an order, and if there was one thing Willie was good at it was following his master's orders.

As he sat on his stool at the bar, Willie fought an inner turmoil raging inside him. He dreaded what Barnabas was possibly doing to Maggie. It was hard to believe that just several hours earlier Willie presented Maggie with a simple warm breakfast of a cinnamon roll. A breakfast she graciously appreciated. He was so incredibly pleased he sort of did something nice for her, since his attempts to protect her only granted varying results. But once again Willie left Maggie at the mercy of Barnabas. Willie felt sick in his stomach. He was once again in a hopeless place to protect the only girl he'd ever grown to care for due to an order. He was so worry sick for Maggie, Willie didn't attend to his order much.

Burke and Vicki sat at the back of the tavern, sharing one of the round tables with Sam Evans and Joe Haskell. The sight of Maggie's father stung Willie's eyes. The servant didn't need super hearing to know what that quartet were talking about. Mr. Evans looked completely lost and heartbroken. Barnabas was probably killing his daughter right now.

With that thought, Willie averted his misty gaze away from the sad father. Willie fondly recalled how Maggie always lovingly referred to her father as "pop."

To make the evening more excruciating, Willie's mind had been haunted all evening by a creeping feminine voice whispering only three words: _Help the girl._ Willie would very much liked to follow that command, but a horrid pulsing of an unnatural heartbeat held him at bay.

The joint suddenly became noisy and much more lively when one Buzz Hackett burst through the entrance wildly, giving the squealing and intoxicated Carolyn Stoddard a piggyback ride. Burke and Vicki, along with Mr. Evans and Haskell, gazed at the unlikely couple with dread. Through the spreading words of gossip, the whole town had been whispering for weeks on Carolyn Stoddard's sudden biker boyfriend. The couple had done nothing but rode on Buzz's hog, and consumed gallons of booze. Since this hookup, Carolyn started sporting black pants with a matching black coat to proved her worth as a biker chick. Her ensemble contrast with Buzz's leather jacket, tattered jeans, and boots. However, the biker's beard and equally greasy hair was still decidedly mismatched to Carolyn's gorgeous blonde model looks. Even though she tried to look like a biker chick, Carolyn's looks was still decidedly a Park Avenue brand at best.

The illicit lovers arrival certainly put the joint on its toes. The two consumed more booze, stumbled about on the dance floor, and pester Vicki, Burke, Mr. Evans, and Haskell. Through Carolyn's ramblings, Willie thought he heard her slur something about her and Buzz getting married, but the servant was disinterested in this development. The blonde heiress' noisy ramblings, and her painful attempts to speak like a bohemian beatnik, wasn't easing Willie's troubled conscience.

He decided to pay for his drink and stepped outside. He would watch Vicki and Burke more closely when they decided to leave the tavern. On his way out the door, Willie stumbled into Jason McGuire. The former friends barely acknowledged each other's presence. They merely stepped aside each other like ghosts, and went on their way.

Out on the dark chilly docks, Willie leaned against a wall in a shadowy corner, and inhaled the salty air. He kept the tavern's entrance in sight for Vicki and Burke's departure.

Putting his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker, and listening to squawking seagulls and fog horns from ships out on the murky sea, Willie assumed Barnabas must've been getting tired of Maggie if he developed this much of a heavy interest in Vicki. That couldn't be good for Maggie.

Willie decided instead of dumping her body into the water like all the others, he would find a peaceful, beautiful, and secret resting place to bury her and intended to visit her often.

About twenty minutes after Willie stepped out of the Blue Whale, Burke and Vicki exit, along with Mr. Evans and Haskell. Willie silently observed the couple say good night to the artist and the fisherman, and Willie followed them. While doing so, the servant tried to keep himself well hidden as much as humanly possible. He didn't exactly had a friendly history with Burke, and he especially didn't want to arouse Burke to any suspicions. Considering that Burke was the only person in town who was (rightfully) suspicious of Barnabas.

And if that wasn't enough, Burke once publicly punched Willie in the very same tavern they all exited from.

Willie's stomach guiltily jolted as he recalled what a jerk he was to Maggie and her father that night. That was only a couple of months ago, but now it seemed like years. Back then Willie didn't give a damn about Maggie and her father. Now...

Trying to place together some broken pieces of his shattered heart, Willie concentrated his attention on Vicki and Burke. Thinking about Maggie too much was becoming painful.

Willie followed the couple as they stroll hand-in-hand together on a rocky beach. The gentle waves peacefully crash on the shores, and squawking seagulls glided under the cloudy night with a pale moon hiding behind the clouds.

To Willie's great relief, Burke finally returned the governess back to Collinwood. It was eleven o'clock, a perfect time for Burke to return a good girl like Vicki home. He must've really wanted brownie points from Mrs. Stoddard.

Unfortunately, Burke didn't escort his date into the Great House. They instead stroll hand-in-hand to the terrace. This meant Willie had to continue watching them. He hid behind the tall bushes as the lovers made out on a stone decorative bench by the fountain. Willie averted his steely gaze away from this, trying desperately to think of something else. But the two finally took their smacking lips off each other, and began speaking softly. Willie tried to listen closely. He didn't even attempt to listen to their conversations all evening, partly because he was too busy hiding himself from them, but also because he assumed their conversations weren't very important to begin with.

But here they were talking about something very important. Suddenly their relationship had become much more than hand holding strolls, and kissing on the terrace. Burke and Vicki were discussing the possibility of getting married. Well, this certainly complicated things. Willie knew his master would obviously object to this, and that was putting it mildly. Poor Burke Devlin...

When Mrs. Stoddard flung open the doors of the terrace, Willie took that as his cue to leave. He got what Barnabas needed to know.

The trek back to the Old House was dreadful. Now Willie had to fully face what Barnabas did to Maggie. Making his way through the rough trees, thick mist, and spooky darkness which was accompanied by an occasional ravenous howling of a wild dog associated to Barnabas, Willie once again felt sick in his stomach. He kept going back how he surprised Maggie with a cinnamon roll, and how he did that on a whim, not caring about Barnabas' mental hold on him.

Willie, in a small way, tried to be kind to Maggie. That was something he truly wanted to do since she became Barnabas' prisoner. But now he was coming home to a dead body he needed to disposed of. That voice filling his head all evening - _Help the girl_ - further made him feel extremely guilty.

The ghost-like form of the Old House came into view through the trees, gleaming eerily under the moonlight. Willie slowly and reluctantly trek his way to the front porch, and entered the manor. Shutting the front double doors behind him, Willie found his master sitting in his chair in the parlor by the fire, with his portrait looking throughout the room from its perch.

The vampire was silently reading an old volume. The burning glow of the fireplace, coupled with the many lit candles made the shadowy room rather sinister.

Willie stiffly approached his master by the fireplace. He rolled his fingers into tight fists by his sides, and asked steadily, "Barnabas, what had you done to Maggie?"

Barnabas glanced up from his reading, and inquired, "How did Vicki's evening with Devlin went?"

"Barnabas, what had you done to Maggie?" Willie repeated, gritting his teeth, and balling his fists tighter.

"Don't withhold your report from me!" Barnabas reprimanded, his dark eyes glaring. "How did Vicki's evening with Devlin went?"

Willie gave a resentful sigh, ran a hand through his hair, and exasperatingly answered, "They went to the Blue Whale and stroll on the beach."

"What did they talk about?" queried Barnabas, arching an eyebrow.

"I dunno, I wasn't close enough to hear," Willie answered.

"You weren't close enough to hear them!" Barnabas cast him a disappointed dark look.

"No, but I did hear what they did say at the terrace," said Willie. "They seem pretty cozy with the idea of gettin' married. There's already a rooster in the hen house, Barnabas."

Even though that comment might earn him a smacking, Willie couldn't hold his brazen smugness in check. He kind of like the idea of Burke posing a great deal of inconvenience to his master. But it might get Burke killed in the process, though.

Barnabas gave his servant another dark look, and nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, we might need to have that taken care of eventually."

The vampire thoughtfully rubbed his chin.

"But for the time being, I need you to prepare this room for dinner for Josette and I tomorrow evening. And get her ready."

Willie was taken aback by that sudden order.

"What are ya sayin'?" He cocked his head hopefully. "Is Maggie still alive?"

"Willie, don't ask ridiculous questions and do what you are told," Barnabas said dismissively. "Go and patrol the grounds."

The vampire returned back to his volume. Willie didn't hesitate from his master's order.

"All right." He nodded.

He instantly bolted for the double doors. Once outside the darkened porch, Willie leaned against one of the columns, placing a steadying hand to his racing heart, and exhaling in relief. He reveled over the fact Maggie was still alive. He honestly feared she was a goner. He needn't dig her a grave. He was beginning to hope his pleading to Josette's portrait hadn't fallen on deaf ears after all.

* * *

_Do you know what young men do for the ladies they fancy? They do something nice for them..._

Willie awoke from his slight slumber after an hour or two of rest. After getting dressed, and slipping on his windbreaker, Willie went to the village to pick up Maggie's breakfast.

Once he returned to the Old House, Willie descended down the dark basement steps and headed for the iron door. Peering through the bars, the servant found the captive sleeping uneasily on her bunk. Willie decided to quietly leave her breakfast in the cell and sneak out to begin his chores. There was a lot of things he needed to get done for this dinner between Maggie and Barnabas. Even though Maggie was having this meal with his master, Willie wanted to surprise her with something he thought she would enjoy.

But as he unlocked and creaked open the door, a loud clanking sound made Maggie fluttered open her eyes. With blurry vision, she found Willie standing by the opened doorway. Willie cursed himself for being so clumsy.

Maggie rubbed her eyes and sat herself up to a sitting position.

"Is it morning?" she asked groggily.

"Yeah," Willie replied awkwardly.

He entered the cell, and shut the door behind him.

"Sorry I woke ya," he muttered guiltily.

"Oh, it's all right," Maggie assured him. "It's not like I enjoy being alone in here."

Her vision finally adjusted, she noticed the bag in Willie's grip, and said brightly, "Oh, did you get me another cinnamon roll?"

"No, I got ya a muffin," Willie exclaimed.

He pulled the paper box out of the bag, and handed it to Maggie on her bunk. Maggie eagerly opened the box and found a blueberry muffin inside.

"Thank you," she murmured.

As she started taking small nibbles off her breakfast, Willie stared around the cell, and realized the phantom jasmine scent was absent. The cell was also freezing. Maggie was shivering slightly.

"The jasmine smell is gone." Willie frowned.

"Yeah," Maggie observed softly.

She took more savoring bites off her warm muffin.

"Did the music box played by itself again?" Willie asked her.

"Not that I know of." Maggie continued to take small bites off her warm muffin.

Willie slapped his hands against his sides, and spat, "So, Josette just up and left!"

"Actually, I think she saved my life last night," Maggie exclaimed.

A look of worry clouded Willie's face.

"Barnabas tried to kill ya last night?"

Maggie indicated a large devastating bruise marking her bare throat. Willie touched his own throat through his turtleneck, recalling how his master did the exact same thing to him.

"Oh, what didja do?" Willie whimpered. "Didja pull your hand away from his kissin' lips again?"

"No, he was just unimpressed with me!" Maggie sniped heatedly.

She ran a cold hand through her tangled tassel hair.

"I tried to act like her, and I told him I feel connected to her all the time. I smell her jasmine, and listened to her annoying music box, but that wasn't enough for him. He put his awful hand on my throat, and I thought for sure he was going to kill me."

"Oh, Maggie, I'm so sorry," Willie said emotionally.

He knew he was right that Barnabas wanted to kill her.

"But I think Josette saved me," Maggie insisted. "I knew she was here when Barnabas tried to strangle me. Barnabas said he saw Josette in my eyes. I honestly didn't know what that meant."

She gazed down at the half-eaten muffin on her lap. "Anyway, he didn't kill me after that." She shrugged.

"What are ya gonna do in this dinner tonight?" Willie asked her.

Maggie gave a quizzical frown, and said, "Dinner?"

"Yeah, you're havin' dinner with Barnabas," Willie filled in.

"That's the first I heard of this," said Maggie, taken aback.

Willie was taken aback, as well. Why didn't Barnabas tell her he wanted to have dinner with her? Willie figured Barnabas must've decided this after he stormed out of her cell, and he wanted Willie to tell her.

"I see Barnabas is not the only one who is dead," sniped Maggie, "so is chivalry. I take it he wants me to act like her."

"Yeah, and don't pull ya hand away when he tries to kiss it," Willie advised.

"All right, Willie, I won't." Maggie cleared her bruised throat.

Willie watched her sadly and then attempted to brighten the mood.

"I'm gonna cook ya a nice dinner, Maggie. It's gonna be somethin' ya like."

"Oh, will our Lord and Master allow this?" Maggie said flippantly.

"He's the one who wants this dinner," said Willie pointedly. "Besides, I like doin' nice stuff for ya."

She smirked at him, and drawled, "Wow, a Willie Loomis Special. I don't know if I should be flattered or frightened."

Willie feigns a hurt look, and countered, "To think I was gonna get ya outta here."

Maggie's eyes widened into a deep hopeful look. A look so hopeful, Willie's heart sank as he had to clarified, "I mean outta the cell. To get ya ready for dinner with Barnabas."

Maggie's hopeful face dramatically dissipated, and said sheepishly, "Of course. That's what you meant."

"At least ya gettin' outta this freezin' place," Willie said gently.

"I really have to hand it to Barnabas," Maggie muttered. "At least he won't let me die from pneumonia."

"Finish ya muffin, and I'll take ya upstairs," Willie told her.

"Well, I can honestly say I won't miss counting the cobwebs," Maggie remarked.

After slowly finishing her muffin, Maggie tentatively got up to her feet. She gazed at the shut and silent music box on the crate, and exclaimed, "Whoops, I can't forget this."

As she grasped the musical trinket, Maggie felt the intense absurdity poring over those words. She had grown to deeply loathed this devise, especially since Barnabas loved it so much. But yet, Maggie couldn't quite part herself from it. Ever since it just magically appeared in her cell to play it's music, Maggie somehow felt connected to Josette. Maggie thought that the music box was the only way for her to stay connected with the ghost.

Willie creaked open the iron door, and Maggie obediently followed him out. She gazed back into her prison cell from over her shoulder. Hopefully, it would be the last glimpse of this squalid place. She turned away from it. After locking the prison door, Willie gently grasped Maggie's icy chilled right hand, as she clung to the music box with her left.

Willie gently led her through the dark dungeon, and after passing the unnerving Him and Hers coffins, the two slowly went up the basement steps. At the top, Maggie was graced by something she hadn't seen in quite some time; a streak of sunshine. When Willie creaked open the basement door, he allowed Maggie to briefly marvel at the stream of sunlight filtering into the windows throughout the main floor. Maggie had to adjust her eyes, unused to the natural brightness of it all. She had been locked in a dark cell for so long, she almost forgotten what it felt like to have the warming raze gently beam on her face.

Willie tenderly grasped her cold hand again, and step by step, slowly ascended up the rickety staircase. Specks of dust streamed through the beams of sunlight bathing the staircase. The two tentatively walked through it as they made their way up the stairs. Maggie felt how slightly wobbly the banister was as her hip lightly brushed against it.

"I see Barnabas didn't order you to fix this," she said. "But I guess if you're someone like Barnabas, you don't need to worry to stumble over and break your neck."

"I've been meanin' to fix that," Willie said honestly. "And you're right, Barnabas doesn't worry 'bout that. He can just turn into a bat and fly before he hits the ground."

"He can turn into a bat?!" Maggie was stunned.

"Yeah," answered Willie with a nod.

"That's so creepy," said Maggie. "Before he kidnapped me, I felt as though I was being watched by a bat at times."

Willie didn't say anything.

When they'd reached the top landing, the servant surprised the captive by passing by Josette's double bedroom doors. Maggie became puzzled.

"Willie, where are you taking me?"

Going down the dark dreary hallway, the two stopped in front of the door leading into the antique bathroom.

"You should wash up," Willie told her.

Maggie beamed at him, and replied gratefully, "Oh, Willie, thank you."

Willie took the music box out of her hand, and said, "I'll just put this in Josette's room."

He saw Maggie to the bathroom, and said, "I'll be right back." He locked her in from the outside.

Maggie found it astounding that even the bathroom door had a lock from the outside. The bathroom was of decent size, with cream tiles, an antique claw foot tub, a toilet, and a sink and vanity with a large and elaborate golden case mirror.

The bathroom was fairly clean. Maggie figured Willie must've cleaned it recently. She turned on the faucet at the sink, and found sure enough there was plumbing. Maybe her bathing experience would be a pleasant one. Maggie gazed up at the single window in the bathroom, and found, much to her surprised, iron bars screwed into the frame.

Maggie scoffed and thought she wouldn't escape that way.

_Is Barnabas really that into the home prison look?_ she thought wryly.

When Willie returned, he handed her a clean house robe to wear after her bathing. Maggie was eternally grateful. She didn't had to wear that itchy and ugly wool black dress when she got done bathing. Willie left her alone to enjoy her privacy.

* * *

As Maggie bathed, Willie began setting up the table in the parlor for the big dinner. Since Maggie became Barnabas' prisoner, she and her captor shared a couple of candle lit dinners in this room because the dining room was in shambles and not yet renovated.

Willie shuddered as he recalled how one of those "dinners" got disrupted by the sudden arrival of Mr. Evans and Haskell. Willie had to hide the half-brainwashed and frightened Maggie in Josette's bedroom, but did a terrible job keeping her quiet. That resulted in Barnabas brutally punishing Maggie.

Willie cursed at himself. Why did he fail to persuade Barnabas to punish him instead?

Willie shook himself out of that harsh memory. He wouldn't let anything like that happened again. Tonight was going to be different. Willie didn't know why, but if Josette already saved Maggie from Barnabas, then the servant supposed that might be a good sign.

After setting up some gothic romantic candles, and going back and forth to the kitchen and parlor to set up the fine China and napkins, Willie went upstairs to check up on Maggie. He lightly rapped on the bathroom door.

"Maggie, ya alright in there?"

"Yes, Willie. I'm pretty much done in here."

Willie unlocked the door, and a refreshingly rejuvenated Maggie stepped out of the bathroom, draped in her new snuggly clean house robe. A towel was wrapped on top of her head covering her wet hair. She looked a little less gaunt and pale than she did before.

"How was ya bath?" Willie asked her.

"Aquatic," replied Maggie simply.

"Didja get any hot water?" asked Willie.

"Yes." Maggie nodded. "It was fairly decent."

Willie spotted the ugly wool black dress crumbled abandon on the middle of the bathroom floor. He noted he needed to do something about that later.

He gently placed a hand on her back shoulder, and said, "I'll take ya to Josette's room."

The two made their way down the eerily silent hallway. Their footsteps creaked on the floor. Willie unlocked Josette's double bedroom doors, and he and Maggie stepped in. Blissful sunshine streamed into the elegant bedroom. It was probably the least dreary room throughout the Old House, but Maggie viewed it as a prison nonetheless. But she rather be in here than in that horrible basement.

"I thought I'll never be in here again," she said in a small voice.

Willie shut the double doors behind them, and rushed over to the canopy bed to undo the bedspreads.

"Ya should probably get some rest before dinner," he suggested.

Maggie smirk at this, and asked, "Are you going to tuck me in, too?"

"I used to," Willie exclaimed, still undoing the bedspreads, and neatly positioning the soft sheets for Maggie's nap. "Back when Barnabas made ya all zombie-like."

Maggie uncomfortably took that in. She was once again reminded that life in the Old House was filled with all kinds of degrading indignation.

"Oh, I see," she murmured nodding.

She turned her back on him, and stepped up to the vanity. She found the music box perched in front of the mirror. She lightly stroked the lid, and felt a spiky chill creeping down her spine. She turned her gaze to her reflection in the mirror.

Near the bed, with his own back turn on her, Willie noted the uncomfortable tone in her voice.

"Look, Maggie, I didn't mean anythin' by that," he tried to explained. "I was... I was tryin' to take care of ya."

"It's all right, Willie," Maggie said from the vanity, sitting down on the chair. "I'm not upset."

Staring at herself in the mirror, she slowly unwrapped the towel from her wet hair. Willie finished undoing the sheets and bedspreads, and turned to face the captive. To his surprised, she was at the vanity unwrapping the towel off her head.

He gulped.

Wet chestnut curls fell about her shoulders. Willie watched transfixed and totally mesmerized. Maggie used the towel to dab at her wet hair.

"So, Willie, do you tuck Barnabas into his coffin at sunrise?" she asked jokingly.

Her quip broke him out of her spell, at least slightly.

"I'm not gonna dignified that with a response," he countered.

Maggie noted the feign indignity in his voice, and chuckled heartedly. It was a real lovely laugh.

Willie decided that the sight of her in her robe, with lush long wet hair, and a teasing attitude, was making things too... titillating for him. He needed to get the hell out of there before he did something stupid.

"I should... work... on dinner..." he stuttered nervously.

Before he could bolt to the doors, Maggie turned from her chair and faced him from the vanity. She gave him a doe-eyed look Willie found infectious.

"Willie, is this really going to be a special dinner?" she asked frankly.

Willie couldn't console her over the fact she was going to dine with a dead guy who wanted her to put on a performance to be someone she was not so he could indulge himself in his sick and perverted fantasies. But Willie was determined to please her with one thing.

"The food will be good."

Maggie bestowed him with a small smile.

"Rest up, Maggie. I'll check up on ya later."

Willie went out the doors, and locked her in the bedroom.

As he headed down the staircase, he softly whispered to himself, "You are one gorgeous chick, Maggie."

He departed from the Old House, and headed into Collinsport in his beatup jalopy of a truck to pick up Maggie's dinner. He first went to the supermarket to pick up a can of New England clam chowder. Then he went to a delicatessen to pick up the main course; a lobster. The memory of Maggie teasing him to make a gourmet lobster made Willie smirk. He was really going to give her a surprise. After picking out a decent sized lobster, who was innocently swimming in a tank with his buddies, and unaware of his fate, Willie paid for him, put the slimy creature into a bucket full of water, and had a bumpy trip back to the Old House. Willie picked up the plastic bag containing the can of the New England clam chowder, and linked it to his arm to allow his free hands to carry the lobster bucket.

Shutting his truck's door with his rear, Willie carefully made it up to the front double doors of the Old House, trying not to spill the bucket of water. As he did so, a spiky chill creeped down his spine. It made him pause for a second, but the chill quickly passed.

He momentarily sat the bucket down so he could opened the door. He picked the bucket up again, and carried it into the house. He had to put it down again so he could shut the door behind him. Then he went straight to the dingy kitchen for the lobster to meet his maker. He placed the bucket on top of the small table, and unlink the clam chowder bag from his arm. He placed the can by the stove and set the empty plastic bag aside.

The kitchen was a cramped space filled with cabinets and pantries. There was an antique iron wood burning stove and oven, a sink, but no refrigerator. It was a gloomy room with gray peeling walls, brown rotted floors, and a small window above the sink refusing to let in much natural light. Given the blandness of the kitchen, it was obviously used only for the cooks to prepared meals for the original Collins family, who would dine in the now in shambles dining room.

Willie was not much of a chef, but he hated working in this kitchen. Its beyond dated technology with the stove was a pain to work with whenever he tried to simply warm something up, and he further hated there was no fridge. But he would work with what was offered to him, and it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

With the afternoon hours passing briskly by, Willie was set to cook Maggie's surprise dinner. The cashier at the delicatessen gave Willie some basic advice on how to cook lobster; just put it in boiling water. Sounded simple enough.

Willie collected an iron pot from one of the bottom cabinets, and filled it with cold water from the faucet. He then placed the pot on the stove, and lit a match to start burning the kindling to make the water gradually boil from underneath.

Now it was time to face the sea bug. This lobster cost Barnabas some pretty hefty pennies, but Willie assumed his master wanted a presentable New England dinner, and wouldn't have any qualms about the cost.

The servant pulled the slimy creature out of his bucket, and carefully removed the safety tape from his claws. Willie never did anything remotely like this before, and he cursed when the lobster struck him, but thankfully his fingers didn't bleed. When the water started to steam and bubble, Willie didn't feel guilty over what he was about to do next. He dumped the little bastard into the piping hot boiling water, and the creature's torturous screams of agony pierced throughout the kitchen. It became eerily quiet when the high-pitched screaming stopped.

Willie shut his eyes and merely nodded to himself. It must be a true meal at the Old House when a bloodcurdling scream was part of the festivities.

As he let the lobster cook, Willie allowed his mind to drift. He let it wander to an area free of violence, blood, and death. His mind went upstairs to Josette's bedroom. It blissfully pictured the robe-clad Maggie drying her hair with that towel at Josette's vanity. Willie indulged himself with that vision for a while, and then turned his attention back to the cooking lobster.

He never really allowed himself to have daydreams about Maggie before. Not since she became prisoner here, anyway. In between his reaction to her from earlier, and now that daydream, Willie realized for some reason he was becoming less repressed. He warmly wondered what his favorite girl was up to.

* * *

The late afternoon sun gradually descended across the sky, as Maggie examined herself in the vanity's mirror. She spent some hours resting in bed, but she couldn't sleep. She was too anxious. She needed to figure out what to do in this dinner with Barnabas to ensure she wouldn't remained locked up in a cell, or worse, get killed. She had to convinced the vampire she was willing to be his Josette. Hopefully, with more freedom to roam in the Old House, Maggie would find a way to escape, or, effectively kill Barnabas.

As she blankly stared at her reflection in the mirror, the captive examined her ghost-like wedding gown she just put on. This seemed to be Barnabas' favorite. She also dab some rose water on her sore neck. The rose water seemed to be another fetish for the vampire. The silk lace on top of the gown covered the bruise the vampire marked on her neck.

Maggie picked up Josette's music box. She hadn't sense the ghost's presence all day. There was no potent jasmine perfume clogging the air, nor did the music box magically opened itself up to play its song for her. Maggie worryingly wondered what the ghost was up to.

A polite rapping came from the double doors.

"Maggie, are ya decent?"

"Yes, Willie," Maggie called.

As she brushed her hair, Willie unlocked the doors and entered.

"Oh, good, you're dressed," he said. "Barnabas will be up soon."

"Yes, I know. Thanks, Willie." Maggie softly brushed her locks. "Do you think I look like a beautiful lady from olden times?"

"Yeah." Willie nodded simply.

"Is dinner coming along okay?"

"I think so," Willie answered.

He turned to leave.

"Oh, Willie," said Maggie. "By any chance, did you see Josette today?"

"She's still gone?" Willie frowned.

Maggie placed the soft brush on top of the vanity, and murmured, "Yeah, I guess so."

Willie looked at her softly, deeply uncertain what to say to her.

"I keep thinking," said Maggie, "about what happened to Vicki months ago."

"What d'you mean?" Willie asked her, cocking his head.

"Before Barnabas came here," Maggie explained, turning her attention to her reflection in the mirror. "Or you and Jason for that matter. Vicki was held captive here."

"What?" Willie furrowed his brow.

Maggie softly gazed at him from the mirror, and further explained, "The Collinses used to have a caretaker named Matthew Morgan. For some reason or another he killed Bill Malloy. Mr. Malloy worked at the Collins cannery. He was Joe's boss."

"What does this had to do with Vicki?" Willie asked.

"Well, just as I was unfortunate to cross paths with Barnabas Collins, Vicki somehow crossed paths with Matthew Morgan when he became a fugitive. He held her captive in a secret room here for days."

_So, some other villain expressed an interest in Vicki before Barnabas?_ Willie wondered inwardly, and then felt a cringe of guilt since Willie once targeted the governess himself.

"This was quiet a happenin' place even before me and Barnabas moved here," Willie remarked.

"I guess," Maggie muttered. "Vicki told me she saw Josette's ghost when she was being held captive here. Matthew dropped dead from a heart attack, apparently from fright. Burke and Roger rescued Vicki shortly after that. At the time, I thought that ghost claim was too incredible to believe, but now I know that not only ghosts, but vampires are real, so..."

"Are you sayin' the ghost of Josette helped Vicki?" Willie inquired.

"I was hoping she will give me the same treatment," Maggie admitted and sighed. "I really want to go home, Willie."

"Ya just had to see what happens," Willie insisted almost cryptically.

The two gazed at the window and realized the orange sky was deepening.

"It's getting late," Maggie observed. "Barnabas will awake soon."

"I better check on dinner," Willie said somberly. "I'll come and get ya later."

"All right," replied Maggie.

* * *

As the sun prepared to set, Willie hurriedly performed some last-minute preparations for his master's expectant rising. The servant felt as though that eighty-five percent of his house chores was tediously lighting candles. Barnabas certainly preserved a lifetime supply of them. Willie spent a good forty-five minutes or so lighting candles all over the main floor, the basement, and some of the second story.

He also made trips to the kitchen to check on his simmering clam chowder. With the ever sinking sun lowering under Widows Hill, and the ominous loud chiming of the church bells banging from a distance, Willie felt the presence of his rising master. He left the kitchen, and went into the parlor. Barnabas stood critically eyeing the prepared table Willie set up.

"Is Josette ready?" he queried his servant.

"I dunno, Barnabas..." Willie stammered. "D'you want me to check?"

"Yes, and when she's ready, sent her in here," Barnabas commanded.

Willie wordlessly left the parlor, and swiftly went up the staircase. He rapped on Josette's double bedroom doors.

"Mag... I mean, Josette," he corrected himself. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, Willie," Maggie called.

Willie unlocked the doors and came into the bedroom. Maggie sat at the vanity, adding some finishing touches to her makeup and bridal ensemble.

"Barnabas is waitin'," Willie informed her.

"I'll be right down," Maggie told him.

Willie nodded and left the room. He came scurrying down the staircase, and reported to Barnabas in the foyer that "Josette" would be right down.

A soft familiar melody sweetly cut through the air.

Willie gazed up, and no matter how many times he watched this, the vision of Maggie descending down the staircase garbed in Josette's wedding gown and veil, with candle light shimmering around her, always took his breath away. The gown made her look she was floating down the stairs. She clutched the music box in her right hand, playing its melody for Barnabas.

When she reached the bottom landing, Barnabas sandwiched her left hand with both of his, his flesh cold to the touch, and complemented, "You look lovely, my dear."

"Thank you," Maggie replied demurely, trying to act lady like. Growing up in a modest cottage with a single father, that didn't come naturally for her.

Still holding her hand with both of his, Barnabas escorted Maggie into the parlor as the music box continued its song. They sat across from each other at the table, as Willie lit the three gothic candles between them. Maggie placed the music box by her plate, avoiding gazing at Willie, who harbored an empty look in his eyes in regards to serving this couple.

"I am curious what is being served for dinner, Willie," said Barnabas, his silky voice carried out coolly.

Willie ignored the hidden insult.

"I didn't give out any specifics of what I wanted to be served," Barnabas exclaimed.

"It's a surprise," Willie said, snuffing his match once the three candles were lit. "I'm gonna get it."

As Barnabas cast him a skeptical look, Willie hurried into the dark kitchen.

Some dozens of candles dimly lit the dismal room. Willie pour some of the hot clam chowder into a bowl, and placed it on a tray next to a platter where the bright red steaming lobster was presented. Willie was sort of looking forward to serving this. He couldn't wait to see the look on Maggie's face. As he grasped the handles of the tray, the dinner unexpectedly came crashing down on the floor, spilling its contents and shattered pieces all over.

Willie leaned against the counter by the stove, feeling sick inside. Something was wrong. It felt as though something was violently pushing itself within him. In the dim candle light, Willie warily glanced down on his left hand and spotted a black mark prominently adorning the back of it. It was a severe black mark of a pitchfork.

"What is happin'?" he gasped breathlessly.

He felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and everything fell into pitch blackness.

* * *

"You look absolutely beautiful tonight," Barnabas told his captive adoringly in the candle lit parlor.

The vampire was completely enchanted by his atmosphere, with her music dancing in the air, and her smell pleasantly tingling the senses. Best of all his lady was radiant. She gazed at him with the most luminous gleam in her soft brown eyes.

"You have Josette in your eyes tonight," he said contentedly.

"I am Josette," she murmured dreamily.

Satisfied, Barnabas reached his hand across the table with a desire to kiss hers. When he gazed down on her hand however, a black pitchfork boldly marked her pale flesh. Barnabas pulled his hand away from her, shock clouding his dark eyes. His captive cast him a serious and sorrowful look.

_"I'm sorry my love,"_ she uttered.

The music box suddenly began playing its melody slowly. It sounded dour and dreary, and not its usual tingling self. The music resounded eerily, bouncing around the walls with a chilling vibration.

"Willie" silently entered the parlor, looking rather pale... and not himself. His pupils were fuzzy and slightly glassy. Barnabas instantly sense something was wrong. His servant was supposed to carry in the dinner, but he hadn't. The servant hardly acknowledged his master's existence in the room.

He leaned against the hearth of the fireplace, resting his left arm on top of the mantel. Barnabas spotted the pitchfork mark in the glow of the burning fire.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he hissed, his dark eyes narrowing.

The next thing he knew, "Maggie" rose from her chair at the table. She came up to the servant at the fire, her wedding gown gracefully billowing behind her. The servant's back was sharply turned to her.

_"Are you alone?"_ he asked in a sinister unnatural voice.

_"Yes,"_ she answered longingly.

"_I promise we will never be alone,"_ said "Willie." But it wasn't Willie who was speaking the words.

_"That was really foolish of you,"_ "Maggie" said playfully, placing a rather flirty smile about her mouth. But like Willie, Maggie had no control over her actions.

_"I_ _meant to keep it!"_ the thing who wasn't Willie retorted desperately.

"What is happening?" Barnabas demanded. He tensely rose from his chair at the table, stiffly placing his hands on top of it. "What is going on?!"

_"Why?"_ "Maggie" asked the servant.

_"I_ _must!" _The servant sharply turned to face Barnabas' beloved. His unfocused eyes were wide and wild. _"And_ _I will after this one time. But_ _I have to see you."_

_"Yes,"_ "Maggie" whispered, drawing herself ever nearer to him.

_"To show you this."_ "Willie" showed her the mark on his left fist.

_"Oh, no!"_ "Maggie" grasped his hand.

_"What does it mean?"_ he demanded of her.

_"I_ _don't know,"_ "Maggie" answered honestly.

_"You must,"_ "Willie" said desperately. _"Millicent said it's been on your hand."_

At this, Barnabas' eyes widened. This couldn't be possible. This absolutely couldn't be possible.

"Josette and Jeremiah!" he gasped.

_"It's fate,"_ said Josette resolutely, tenderly rubbing the mark on Jeremiah's hand. _"Fate telling us not to hide what we feel for one another."_

_"We feel nothing!"_ Jeremiah spat, turning his back on her in anger.

But Josette persistently came to his side once more.

_"Then why this?"_ She lovingly placed his marked hand to caress the softness of her cheek. _"I've meant what_ _I said before, Jeremiah._ _I do feel something for you."_

_"Don't!"_ Jeremiah harshly pulled his hand away from her.

_"It comes and goes,"_ Josette persisted, rubbing his tense muscles. _"Something_ _I must learn to control. Something_ _I'm so ashamed of... and yet..."_

"Stop!" Barnabas commanded. "Release them at once!"

But the two acted like he wasn't even there.

_"But everyone will find out!"_ Jeremiah protested.

_"Perhaps that will be better,"_ Josette stated brazenly.

"Cease this!" Barnabas hissed, gripping the table tighter.

_"No!"_ Jeremiah tensely grip her shoulders. _"You love Barnabas."_

_"I_ _loved him when_ _I came,"_ Josette insisted dismissively.

_**"You love him still!"**_ Jeremiah violently shook her shoulders. His disconcerting unnatural voice boomed throughout the old walls.

Josette turned from him shaken, and gasped, _"I'm so confused."_

Jeremiah tenderly came up to her then, and brushed her marked hand with his.

_"Your hand,"_ he said lovingly. _"It's so soft."_

Just then, the parlor erupted in violent earthquake-like shaking. Barnabas stumbled on his feet as some items carelessly came crashing down to the floor. The music box suddenly turned up its volume, drowning the room with even more of its eerie melody of despair.

_"Why is this happening to us?"_ Josette raised an eyebrow, uncaring of the violent shaking around her.

_"I_ _don't care,"_ Jeremiah whispered, longingly wrapping her in his arms.

The illicit possessed lovers were blissfully undeterred by the violent shaking in the room.

_"When_ _I'm in your arms,_ _I don't want to be in anyone else's. Ever,"_ Josette breathed. _"I belong here."_

_"Yes,"_ Jeremiah implored her, placing soft kisses on her cheek.

_"Let them know,"_ declared Josette. _"Let everyone in the house know._ _I don't care. We mustn't care. We must be together."_

_"Yes,"_ whispered Jeremiah in a husky tone.

**"NO!"**

With more violent shaking disturbing the parlor, Barnabas was being shoved out of the room.

"Why are you doing this?!" bellowed the vampire. "Why are you reenacting this betrayal!"

The lovers enfolded themselves in a passionate and searing embrace. Their kisses were filled with sparks, desire, and desperate longing. This action made the room even more unstable. Items began levitating off their fallen places from the floor, and began hurling themselves at Barnabas. The vampire feebly avoided their blows.

"Why are you doing this to me?!" Barnabas' voice was filled with anger. His dark eyes were immensely hurt and filled with despair. "Why?"

The possessed lovers continued to be enthralled by their embrace, holding and kissing each other passionately, and enticing each other on. It seemed to Barnabas that the room somehow stretched itself out, and he was witnessing this from a faraway distance. For all he knew, he probably was. And what a detestable sight it was. His uncle and his true love reenacting their spell in the bodies of a common girl and a servant, and losing themselves in a intense but fabricated passion amidst all the damage they had caused, and doing it without a care.

When Barnabas stumbled clumsily backwards into the calm foyer, a grieving but masculine voice called out to him.

_"Barnabas."_

The vampire spun around. His father Joshua Collins stood regally by the staircase in his blue cape. He looked corporeal and less like a phantom. He aimed a pistol at his son's heart.

_"I_ _must do this,"_ said the patriarch aggrieved. _"I must."_

"How is this possible!" Barnabas snapped. "How is any of this possible! I banish Josette from this house. I banish all spirits from this house!"

_"Oh,_ _I'm sorry,"_ said Joshua mournfully, his finger grasping the trigger. _"I'm sorry, my dear son."_

He pulled the trigger. At the sound of the loud **BANG,** Barnabas shut his eyes... but nothing pierced through his heart. There was no bullet shrapnel, no pain, nothing. Barnabas slowly opened his eyes. His father remained by the staircase with his smoking pistol by his side.

The vampire frowned.

"Father, I don't understand," he said puzzled. "We both already know that won't hurt me. Whatever made you think..."

Something struck the vampire hard on the back of his head. It left him dazed and his vision blurry, and he hit the floor unconscious. That surely hurt him.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Influence of the Lost Lenore**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine**

* * *

CHAPTER 6: THE INFLUENCE OF THE LOST LENORE

The tingling melody of Josette's music box and her potent jasmine perfume resounded throughout Maggie's senses as she shifted into consciousness. She fluttered open her eyes and found herself lying in a soft bed with her head resting comfortably on a silk pillow.

"Pop?" she mumbled.

Canopy draperies came into her blurry vision. Maggie reluctantly realized she was not back in her own bed at the Evans cottage, but rather in Josette's bed at the Old House where a frightening vampire was holding her against her will. But the rest of her mind was blank. She felt tremendously cold, and her joints were numb. Why did she feel so terrible?

She realized someone was lying shoulder to shoulder beside her. She slowly turned her head on the pillow, and found Willie sleeping right beside her, mumbling in his own sleep.

"Help... the... girl. Help... the... girl..."

Alarmed, Maggie gasped and shot up to a sitting position. To her relief, Maggie realized she and Willie were still fully clothed, her in Josette's wedding gown, him in his jeans and turtleneck, but why were they in bed together? And why couldn't she remember how she got in bed with him?

Realizing she was still wearing her veil, Maggie gladly removed it from her throbbing head.

She threw her legs aside to get off the bed - but found the floor was far from her reach. The canopy bed was levitating high in the air. The poles from the bed's banisters brushed against the ceiling. Maggie shrieked, and crawled panically to Willie's side of the bed.

"WILLIE! WAKE UP!"

But Willie was awakened the moment she shrieked.

The bed came crashing down on the floor, causing Maggie to awkwardly fling her body on top of Willie's. She instantly pulled herself off the servant.

Lifting himself up on his elbows, Willie cast Maggie a look beyond bewildering.

"Maggie? What ya doin'? Why did you shake the bed?"

"That wasn't me, Willie!" Maggie wailed, her dark eyes round and mortified. "The bed was hovering toward the ceiling and came crashing down on the floor!"

Willie shot up to a proper sitting position.

"What?"

"I'm just as confused as you are," Maggie uttered.

"But I-I... I don't get it," Willie stammered. "Why a-are w-we in... Josette's bed?"

"I don't know," Maggie told him. "I don't have any clue how we got here."

Willie shook his head and exhaled shakily.

"I... I can't remember what happened last night."

"Me neither," Maggie uttered with a shake of her head. "I was sitting at the table with Barnabas, and everything just went blank."

"I was at the kitchen gettin' your dinner," Willie recalled. "And then I felt sick. I remember a black mark on my hand." Willie lifted his left wrist. "It's gone!"

Maggie silently check the back of his hand. A chilly breeze suddenly tingle their spines. The canopy draperies rustled gently through the ominous chill. Willie and Maggie glanced wordlessly at each other. The continuous rustling of the draperies had the two slowly glanced up at the top of the canopy bed. What they saw caused the two to scream in unison.

A ghastly phantom in a tattered eighteenth-century suit with a tattered blue frock coat, tight trousers, and leather boots, leered over them sinisterly high above their heads.

His entire head was covered in bloody bandages, but his beady eyes locked down on them, damaged and not properly in their sockets.

"_I hate... hate... **HATE YOU BOTH!** for disrupting my rest!"_ he thundered.

He dived swiftly toward them, his out-reached hands with long fingers like talons ready to do them some harm. But Willie and Maggie separated and threw themselves off the bed, Willie from his side, and Maggie on hers. They landed on their hands and knees on the floor. The phantom dived and dematerialized through the bed. Across from each other, the servant and the captive watched him dived through the floor from under the bed and he was gone.

Maggie was shaken, her heart racing against her ribs.

"Willie, what was that!?"

"I dunno," came Willie's answer from the other side of the bed, equally as terrified as her. "I think he was a mummy."

"A demon mummy," sniped Maggie.

Willie got up from the floor, and came around the bed. He knelt beside Maggie, and gently rubbed her shoulders.

"Ya alright, Maggie?"

"I don't know," Maggie answered him truthfully. Her complexion was as white as a sheet.

_"Why are you so afraid?"_ called out a small voice.

Willie and Maggie started. They stared around the room from their spots on the floor by the bed.

"Where did that voice come from?" Willie whispered, his eyes clearly terrified.

Maggie noticed a white glow coming from under the bed. She looked under it.

"Willie, there's a little girl under here."

* * *

The ghostly transparent Josette eerily dematerialized her way through the walls on the main floor, a proud grin etched upon her lips. Her music continued to resound prominently throughout the manor, along with the scent of her jasmine. She just came from the dining room, where she placed a little surprise for the would-be lovers when they decided to come downstairs.

She floated her way into the parlor, and glanced up at the portrait of her beloved. She stared at the portrait sadly.

A maniacal and sinister cackling cut through her music. The phantom with the bloody bandages dematerialized his way through the ceilings, and glided down by Josette. A mad grin was placed on his mouth.

_"Did_ _I hear screams of terror coming from upstairs?"_ she demanded of her husband.

_"You must have,"_ Jeremiah said coyly.

_"And you were the cause,"_ Josette concluded knowingly. _"Why must you be like this?"_

_"Death has been unkind to me,"_ Jeremiah stated bluntly. _"If you allowed me to kill Barnabas when_ _I was in that servant's body, we will all be free of this curse, and be resting in peace."_

_"It wasn't supposed to be like this for Barnabas!"_ Josette argued. _"Or for_ _I_. _Otherwise, I'll be at peace."_

_"It seems as though that Barnabas is not the only one clutching to the past!"_ Jeremiah accused her coldly.

_"It's not like that at all,"_ Josette denied, glaring at his bandaged covered head and damaged eyes. "_I shan't give up on him._ _I think_ _I'm meant to help him. There must be_ _a better way to lift this curse."_

"_I don't think there is_ _a better way,"_ Jeremiah sneered. _"You shall be focused on controlling this house again."_

_"The house is mostly in my control now,"_ Josette said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

_"You command that servant admirably,"_ Jeremiah conceded, _"and had Barnabas taken care of for the time being. But it's supposed to be your portrait hanging above the mantel. You're supposed to be the proper mistress of this manor."_ He indicated up to Barnabas' newly done portrait.

_"All in good time,"_ Josette said softly.

_"Hold your ground against Barnabas,"_ said Jeremiah. _"Don't let your sentimental feelings cloud your judgment."_

_"Patrol the grounds,"_ Josette ordered. _"Keep_ _a lookout for living souls._ _I don't want them around here. Not even that little boy for the moment."_

_"Yes, my darling."_

Jeremiah faded away, leaving Josette alone with her troubled thoughts and predicament.

* * *

In Josette's bedroom, Willie and Maggie were gobsmacked over the mysterious glowing little girl hiding under the canopy bed.

"Where did you come from!?" Willie demanded of the kid.

"Willie, please, you'll scare her off," Maggie scolded.

When she turned her attention back to the hiding little girl, Maggie's jaw dropped. The little girl was gone. The space under the bed was completely abandoned.

"Where did she go?" Maggie gasped. "Little girl? Little girl?"

_"Right here,"_ called a voice from over their shoulders.

Maggie and Willie instantly looked up, and found the little girl standing right behind them. She was no longer glowing, and appeared to be corporeal.

"How did ya do that?" Willie said flabbergasted with wide round eyes.

_"Whatever do you mean?"_ The girl cocked her head to the side.

She was indeed a rather unusual little girl, and it wasn't because she could disappear and reappear at will. She wore a long white dress with a matching bonnet, both in which were not mid-twentieth century children's wear. She appeared to be around nine or ten years old, with freckles on her pale face, and long brown hair that went below her waist. She clutched a little doll in her arms, a doll that wasn't made from plastic, and appeared to be an antique. A product from another time.

Maggie tried to keep calm over this kid's unexpected and questionable presence.

"What is your name?" Maggie questioned her steadily.

_"Sarah,"_ replied the girl.

"Sarah." Maggie smiled. She got up awkwardly to her feet, trying not to trip on her long wedding gown. "I'm Maggie, and this is Willie."

"_I know,"_ said Sarah vaguely.

Maggie arched up an eyebrow, and asked, "You know who we are?"

_"Yes,"_ Sarah answered. "_I come here every so often to play with_ _a boy._ _A boy named David."_

"David Collins?" Willie queried curiously.

He got up off the floor and sat at the side of the bed.

_"Yes."_ Sarah nodded.

"How do you know David?" Maggie inquired. She herself had never personally seen Sarah in Collinsport. It might've been possible for Sarah and her family to be new in town, but that doesn't explain how the girl could disappear and reappear from under the bed in a blink of an eye, or why she was dressed from a time long ago.

_"Well, he can see me,"_ the little girl said simply. _"Like you two can. And his mother is_ _a flaming bird! Did you know that?"_

At this, the captive and the servant shared a sideways glance.

_"You won't tell my father I've been here, will you?"_ Sarah pleaded, rocking her antique doll gently in her arms. _"He is so sad about my brother."_

"Brother?" Maggie frowned.

"Arentcha Barnabas' sister?" Willie asked suddenly from the bed.

Maggie gaped at him with a look of bewilderment in her narrow eyes.

"Sister?"

"Yeah, Barnabas told me 'bout her," Willie exclaimed from the bed.

"Barnabas told you?" Maggie was stunned.

"Yeah, Barnabas tells me things," Willie said.

When they both turned their attention back to the little girl, she was gone. Her little antique doll laid on the floor. Maggie momentarily gasped, and picked up the doll. Once she did, an ominous cold chill crept into the bedroom, rustling the various draperies, and the chandelier on the ceiling.

Willie and Maggie looked at each other warily. Between the floating bed, the evil mummy ghost, and now this little girl and her antique doll, they didn't need a rocket scientist to explain to them that the Old House was drastically haunted. And that may also played a role on why the two were suffering from a major blackout from the previous night.

Willie shot out of bed, and announced, "I better see what happened to Barnabas."

"I'm going with you," Maggie insisted.

"No!" Willie told her gruffly.

"No!?" Maggie shot at him, rage darkening her eyes.

"Barnabas doesn't want you wanderin' 'round," Willie warned.

"Willie, we both got attack last night!" Maggie glared at him defiantly. "God only knows what they did to us or to Barnabas."

"Barnabas is still alive," Willie insisted.

"How do you know that?" Maggie asked him.

"'Cause if h-he... was dead," Willie stuttered, "y-you and m-me will be outta here."

"Barnabas still has that control over you?" Maggie murmured.

Willie nodded miserably, enduring the sounds of his master's voice reining inside his head, and the vampire venom floating throughout his veins.

"Please stay in here," Willie pleaded to her. "I'll see if he's in his coffin."

"I'm coming with you," Maggie said stubbornly.

"No..."

"Willie, I don't want to be alone," Maggie cut him off. "What if that mummy ghost or phantom or whatever he is comes back?"

Willie reluctantly considered her words. Staring deeply into the determined look in her ever expressive eyes, he had to admit she had a point. It seemed Barnabas was not the only threat to her in the Old House.

"If ya come with me," Willie told her firmly, "you hafta promise ya won't try to run away."

"I promise." Maggie placed the doll on the bed.

Willie wasn't sure if he should trust her, but there seemed to be no other alternative.

"Alright, but stay close to me."

Maggie nodded eagerly. Willie went over to the double doors and hastily flung them open. Maggie linked her hand with Willie's arm, and the two cautiously stepped out into the hall. Josette's melody resounded throughout the dilapidated manor, vibrating the walls in a deep hum. Her jasmine perfume also assaulted their senses, nearly causing Maggie to sneeze. Several candlesticks floated about over their heads, and it seemed there was several blinking instances that the hall was stretching itself out back and forth with such a shaky force, it made the two wobble on their feet.

Really creeped out by all of this, Willie and Maggie hesitated when they'd reach the staircase. Maggie gave Willie an incredulous look. The staircase was wobbly enough as it was. It didn't need poltergeist activity to make it more unstable. Nevertheless, Maggie hold on tight to Willie's arm, and the two slowly descended their way down. Thankfully, the two made it down to the bottom landing without incident.

But when they gazed into the parlor however, their eyes nearly popped out. The furniture was roughly gliding throughout the room, moving in unison to Josette's melody. Candles were dancing gracefully in the air, bumping into Barnabas' portrait above the mantel, but not damaging it. It was as though the portrait was heavily protected by some invisible barrier.

In the foyer, Willie and Maggie gave each other a long look. Maggie stared longingly at the front double doors.

"Willie, let's run away."

"What?" Willie gaped at her.

"You honestly don't want to live in a haunted house, do you?" Maggie gave him a dead serious look.

"No, but Barnabas needs me," Willie countered.

"He doesn't need me."

Maggie let go of his arm, and bolted for the double doors.

"Maggie! You promise ya won't run away!" Willie bellowed at her betrayed.

But when Maggie reached the doors she couldn't turned the knobs. The doors were firmly stiff and close, sticking together like glue. Maggie banged on the doors in rage and frustration.

"They won't let me leave," Maggie cried out in a sad and defeated voice. "They won't let me leave."

Willie gently came up to her, placing his hands on her back shoulders.

"Maggie, ya lied to me. I hafta lock you in Josette's room."

Maggie whirled around, and pleaded, "No, please, I don't want to be locked up anymore." She linked her hand back into his arm again. "I... I just want to get home."

Willie looked at her wary but sympathetic.

"Okay, but I'm givin' ya one more chance."

"I won't try to run away again," Maggie promised him.

Ignoring the bizarre phenomenon going on in the parlor, the servant and the captive made their way to the end of the foyer where the metal door leading down into the dark basement awaited them. As Willie unlocked the door, Maggie heaved a sigh, and shut her eyes tightly. This was one area of the house she didn't want to revisit again, especially when she so hope she would never see that horrible dungeon or its coffins after Willie took her out of her cell. But she didn't want to be locked up in Josette's bedroom either.

When Willie unlocked and swung open the basement door, Maggie reluctantly followed him down. As they carefully tread their way down the dark steps with cobwebs hanging over their heads, they gazed down into the dungeon, and what they saw caused them to freeze on the steps.

A ghostly man hovered sorrowfully over Barnabas' coffin. His white glow eerily illuminated the dark dungeon. He dressed as if he was from the eighteenth century like the mummy ghost that terrified them earlier, but his suit, cape, and boots were not tattered. But the most striking thing was he looked exactly like Roger Collins, only in a cape, and long sideburns.

Willie and Maggie gaped at each other.

The ghost seemed to sense their presence and gazed up at them.

_"What in the devil are you two doing down here?"_ he demanded authoritatively, his voice echoing off the murky dungeon walls. _"Ought you be in the dining room?"_

Willie and Maggie looked at each other again. Maggie decided to be the one to speak with the ghost.

"Why should we be in the dining room?"

_"Miss Josette wants you in there_ _I believe,"_ said the ghost.

"Josette?" Maggie raised her brows. "Is she in the dining room?"

The ghost didn't answer her. He sadly return his gaze back to the vampire coffin.

"Is Barnabas in there?" Willie asked him, pointing at the coffin.

"_I am guarding my son!"_ The ghost glared up warningly at the servant.

Willie wondered what was it about himself that always rubbed guys from another century the wrong way. Before he and Maggie could do or say anything else, a phantom swoop his way through the dark ceilings, and sharply glided down to the other ghost. Willie and Maggie tried to refrain from panicking. This was the same ghost that terrified them in Josette's bedroom earlier, bloody bandages and all.

"_I need your help, brother,"_ said the ghost in the bloody bandages urgently.

_"Whatever for?"_ said Barnabas' father irritably.

"_A smirking Irishman is advancing toward the house,"_ the bloody bandaged ghost warned. "_I tried warding him off, but he ignores my warnings with astute arrogance."_

"Jason?" Willie chimed in from the stairs.

The two ghosts stared up at him from the coffin.

_"You know this intruder servant?"_ demanded Barnabas' regal father.

A little creeped out by the phantom's sudden attention, Willie gulped and nodded wordlessly.

_"Can you get rid of him?"_ demanded the bandaged phantom.

"Yeah." Willie nodded.

**_"Then_ _get_ _rid_ _of_ _him!"_** bellowed the bandaged phantom, casting the servant a terrifying glare deep in his dead grotesque eyes.

Willie didn't need to be told twice. He dashed his way up the basement steps, with the equally terrified Maggie following right behind him. As soon as they'd reached the basement door, a stiff knock emerged from the front double doors out in the foyer.

Willie turned to Maggie, and said shakily, "I-I... hafta l-lock you in h-here... Maggie. I'll get... rid of Jason."

"You don't have to do that!" Maggie spat at him.

"You tried to escape already," Willie reminded her. "I can't take that chance."

Maggie glared at him begrudgingly as he stepped out and shut the basement door behind him, locking her in the shadows. Maggie could honestly say she wasn't happy about Jason's visit either. Of all the people to wander to the Old House, why did it had to be Jason McGuire? Why couldn't it be pop or Joe? Furthermore, there were two dead men plus her captor down in the basement who would likely punish her severely if she tried to alert Jason. But it was unlikely Jason would help her if she did alert him. He was Jason McGuire.

Willie went through the foyer as Maggie watched hidden through the bars behind the door. Willie gazed into the parlor, and found the furniture and candlesticks still dancing in chaos to Josette's music box melody. Willie hoped Jason didn't see this through the windows.

Willie went to the front double doors, and stared down on the knobs uncertainly. Would the ghosts allow him to open the doors so he could get rid of Jason? He turned the knobs, and to his surprised, the doors flung breezily open.

Jason stood on the front porch, dressed in his dark double-breasted suit, and his patented smirk. Willie still found this to be a weird sight - his former drifter friend dressed like a millionaire.

Jason scrunched up his nose, and demanded snarly, "Why does it smell like flowers over here?"

Ignoring Josette's powerful jasmine perfume, Willie shrugged from the doorway, and answered, "I dunno."

Jason cast him a sharp disbelieving glare. "All right, if you won't answer me that question, will ya be so kind as to explain why this tingling dreadful music is blaring out of Barnabas Collins' residents? I know for a fact this is not your kind of music, Willie."

"Mr. Collins likes it," Willie said.

Jason put his hands behind his back, and smirked. "Oh, I see. By any chance, is Mr. Collins happened to be home?"

"No, he's out doin' business," Willie muttered.

"O' course he is." Jason said feigning thoughtfulness. "And you listen to his music without him around to feel closer to him. Is that it, my boy?"

"What d'you want, Jason?" Willie said irritably.

"Willie, the moment we passed each other by at the Blue Whale the other night, I knew somethin' was wrong," said Jason. "Somethin' that could jeopardize my weddin' plans with Liz."

Behind the basement door, Maggie balked at Jason's words.

"I dunno what ya mean, Jason," said Willie.

"Willie, don't think I haven't notice strange things goin' on 'round here," Jason said in a no-nonsense tone.

"I dunno what ya mean," Willie repeated.

"The howling of ravenous dogs, a man in ol' clothes comin' and goin' on my path over here. This smell, this music," Jason said pointedly.

"What man in old clothes?" Willie blinked.

"Oh, I don't know," admitted Jason gruffly. "I didn't get a good look at him."

"I don't see why you're here, Jason," said Willie.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your odd behavior," Jason sneered. "What with all of this sensitivity rubbish. I don't know what to make of this Barnabas Collins, either, but you and he better not interfere with my plans with Liz. It's bad enough that Carolyn and her motorcyclist fiance is causin' me problems, the last thing I need is for you to make things worse."

Behind the basement door, Maggie once again balked. It was shocking enough to hear that Jason was going to marry Mrs. Stoddard. (And by the sounds of it not a very harmonious union.) But it was another that Carolyn was apparently going to marry a biker. Since getting abducted by Barnabas, Maggie had been missing out on all the juicy gossip it seemed.

"We have nothin' to do with each other anymore," Willie told Jason somewhat heatedly.

It was kind of a sad statement. Even though they were not above stabbing each other in the back, Willie and Jason were good friends at one time.

"Yeah, I like to keep it that way," Jason growled.

As he turned his back on Willie to leave, the double doors slammed themselves shut, locking Willie into the haunted house, and shutting Jason out of his life.

After allowing Willie to collect his bearings, Maggie murmured gently through the bars, "You and Jason are not friends anymore?"

With his back still turned on her, Willie leaned against the front double doors and tried turning the knobs. They wouldn't budge.

"No, not since Barnabas," Willie answered her somberly, his back still turned to her.

Behind the door, Maggie gave a sympathetic look, but she didn't know what to say. She felt bad for Willie for losing a friend, and Jason seemed to be the closest thing to family Willie had, but Maggie couldn't forget they were also criminals.

Willie finally came up to her at the basement door, and said through the bars, "Wanna see Josette in the dining room?"

"Yeah." Maggie smiled weakly. "Josette is a legend around here, and I never met a legend before."

Willie bestowed her with his own broken smile, and after letting her out and re-locking the basement door, he took Maggie to a different section of the rundown mansion she'd never been in before. Or at least she thought she'd never been there. Maggie wasn't sure how much of the mansion she'd been in during her brainwashed zombie state.

The corridor was in total disarray, and it was clearly obvious Willie hadn't cleared out this section of the broken manor. Cobwebs dominated most of the area, even more so than the basement. They stick prominently high up on the ceilings and much of the vulnerable walls. The floors were filthy, with dust brushing against the bottom of Maggie's white wedding gown. The windows were so dirty, they blocked out much of the sunlight trying to filter in.

Passing by the kitchen, Willie took Maggie to a set of double doors at the end of the corridor and flung them open. The dining room awaited them. It was a decent sized room, with a long table in the center of the space, with dust and cobwebs devouring the crystal chandelier hung high above the table.

It was a beautiful room... once... long ago.

But like the rest of the manor, it became swallowed by dust, decay, cobwebs, rat droppings, and time. The once elegant European windows were covered in heavy dirt, and like in the corridor, sunlight couldn't stream in through the blockage of filth. There were at least fourteen chairs gathered at the dining room table, unsurprisingly shrouded in dust. But it was what's on the table that caught Willie and Maggie off guard.

Sitting elegantly on a platter on the center of the table was Willie's surprised lobster dinner smeared in his creamy clam chowder. The silverware and China were neatly placed, and a set of white candles sat near the plates in a candelabra. But there was no sight of Josette. Her music and perfume still hovered the air, but this was not the welcome Willie and Maggie anticipated.

"Josette is not here." Maggie was thoroughly disappointed.

"No, she ain't," Willie concurred.

Maggie moved toward the table to better observed this odd breakfast.

"What is this?"

"My surprised dinner for you," Willie muttered, a little embarrassed.

He followed her to the table. Once they'd approached it, the white candles lit themselves up, startling the servant and the captive. It was like someone invisible just lit them.

"Boy, this house is full of surprises," Maggie muttered.

She glanced down at her ruin surprised dinner, wrinkled up her nose, and commented, "This is pretty gross."

Willie turned away from her ashamed, and buried his face into his hands groaning miserably. "It's not supposed to be like this."

"Like what?" Maggie frowned behind him. "Listen, Willie, I know you were trying to do something nice for me, but a failed dinner is the least of my worries right now."

"It's not that," Willie said awkwardly, his tense back still turned to her.

"Then what is it?"

Willie turned to face her. With the genuine look she was casting him, silently urging him to tell her what was wrong, Willie decided to confess something to her.

"All I wanna do is help ya, Maggie. But I ain't no good."

"Oh, don't say that, Willie," Maggie dismissed gently. "You saved my life. I am very grateful for that."

"I tried to stop him from takin' ya," Willie said to her.

Maggie cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"I did stop him once," Willie informed her softly. "Not much good that do. He just beat me with his cane and took you any way."

"Willie!" Maggie gasped with stunned eyes. She was immensely horrified that Willie suffered through savage beatings just for trying to help her.

"I tried to help ya," Willie said with great anguish. "I really did. But I can't with this." He lifted his wrist to show her the two white bite marks scarring it.

"Is that where...?" Maggie stared deeply at the marks.

"Yeah," Willie answered her gloomily.

Instinctively, Maggie touched her own identical bite marks on the side of her neck. Even though she wasn't nearly as enthralled by Barnabas as Willie, Maggie felt what it was like to be under the vampire's control. Despite more or less breaking out of Barnabas' spell, Maggie could still feel his venom swimming in her veins. She cast Willie a sincere empathetic look.

"I can't betray him," Willie said soberly. "So I turned to Josette's ghost for help."

"For help?" Maggie frowned, confused.

"To help you," Willie clarified.

Maggie was quite surprised by that, and even a little touched. Now she fully understood why Josette had been haunting her.

"That didn't do much good, either," said Willie, casting his defeated gaze downward. "Just look what she did. She won't let you leave."

Maggie wasn't happy about this turn of events either, but all she could do was carry herself through it. Liked she did all her life.

"She invited her ghost friends over," said Maggie thoughtfully. "I can't believe Barnabas' father look so much like Roger Collins. There's definitely an uncanny family resemblance there. Do you suppose that spooky mummy ghost that said 'boo' to us is Josette's husband Jeremiah? We heard those two ghosts referring to themselves as brothers down in the basement, and the Roger looking ghost is Barnabas' father. Joshua Collins and Jeremiah Collins were brothers. At least, according to our town's history."

"Oh, Barnabas is not gonna like Jeremiah Collins bein' here," Willie groaned miserably. "He hates him."

"I wonder when a vampire fell in love with Josette?" Maggie pondered. "How did the history books leave out that detail?"

Willie didn't respond. He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair with a severe put-upon expression on his face.

"Willie, are you alright?" Maggie asked him gently.

Willie placed a forced smile on his lips, and reply, "Sure, Maggie."

Maggie, however, didn't believe him. Before she could say anything to him, a small but recognizable voice cut in.

_"Where is my doll?_ _I searched everywhere for her!"_

Sarah the ghost girl stood by the open dining room double door entrance. Willie and Maggie gaped at her. Having ghosts pop in and out at any moment, even seemingly harmless ones, was still unnerving."You left her upstairs in Josette's room," Maggie informed the girl. "You left her on the floor, so I put her on the bed to nap."

_"Do you want to come up and play with her with me?"_ Sarah asked Maggie hopefully. _"We can sing and play games."_

Maggie was taken aback by this odd request. She didn't know what to make of a ghost kid wanting to play games and sing with her. She wasn't for certain if she should trust this.

"I guess we could give it a try." She shrugged uncertainly.

Sarah smiled broadly, her face lit up.

"Be careful," Willie told Maggie with concern forming in his grayish-blue eyes.

"I will," she murmured to him.

She came up to the ghost girl at the dining room's open double doors, and she grabbed Maggie's hand in her small cold one. Willie watch them go down the dreary corridor, leaving him alone with Josette's powerful music and scent.

Once the two girls were out of sight, Willie heaved a deep sigh, placed his hands on his hips, and shook his head. Why was it every time he tried to help Maggie it was all for nothing?

_"You really want to help her?"_ a familiar feminine voice echoed at him.

Too far gone to care about the absurdity to respond to an eerie disembodied voice, Willie answered with great sincerity, "Yeah, I wanna help her more than anything."

* * *

The mid-afternoon sun bathed serenely on the seaside hill where the Evans cottage stood. Inside, however, was completely melancholy. Sam sat at his canvas by his wide window in the living room, touching up one of his beach portraits in the natural light. Joe lounged on the couch, using his lunch hour to spend some time with Sam.

Joe reported that Sheriff Patterson and his men still had no new information about Maggie. Patterson seemed convinced the body they'd found on the beach pretty much closed the case. Sam and Joe didn't say much to each other after that.

As they both sat silently plagued by their hopeless thoughts, Sam finally broke the silence. "I saw you with Carolyn Stoddard the other day. Are you two back on more friendlier terms?"

Joe hesitated from the couch slightly, not looking at Sam, and heaved a sigh.

"It depends on how the wind blows," Joe finally answered. "One minute she's pleasant and understanding. The next... well, you saw her at the Blue Whale with that guy. If you ask me, she's more than qualified to be one of your drinking buddies."

"No, she's too noisy and bouncy," Sam disagreed, gently stroking a paint brush on his latest mediocre creation. "And sprouting philosophical that don't make quite sense."

"Well, that's our Carolyn," Joe said lightly, spreading his muscular arms on the back of the couch.

Turning his attention back to his canvas, Sam was stunned to realized he was not intoxicated. Sam had been haunted by the gut-wrenching guilt that his drinking took his daughter away from him. How many times had Maggie pleaded for him to stay on the wagon? Sam highly felt he was paying for that now, and severely felt he deserved it. But why did Maggie had to be the one to pay for his foolishness?

Setting his brush aside, the artist turned his sober gaze on his daughter's beau, and asked seriously, "Tell me, Joe, how are things really are between you and Carolyn?"

"Well, I just told you," insisted Joe.

"But I sense there's something more to this." Sam narrowed his gaze on the young man.

Joe hesitated once more, and heaved another sigh.

"She's been real... nice and understanding about Maggie."

"She's been a real friend to you?" Sam prompted.

"Yes," Joe admitted, returning his gaze back to the artist. "And... I know her so-called engagement to that biker is just a facade. She's rebelling against her mother over this Jason McGuire business."

"Do you think it might be possible for you two to get back together?" Sam asked frankly.

"I think that ship has sailed," Joe said in regards of his childhood sweetheart, and all the trouble and heartache she caused him before he found something more stable with Maggie. "After all, it seemed such a betrayal to Maggie."

Sam reminisce how happy Maggie was when she and Joe started dating after his breakup with Carolyn. Maggie was so blissfully happy in those days. Returning his mind back to harsh reality, Sam's heart sank as he said to Joe, "Hey... in case we don't or ever find Maggie, and you want to get back together with Carolyn, or find happiness with another girl, I just want you to know you have my blessing."

Joe awkwardly shook his head, and exclaimed, "I don't want to ever think about that."

"Maggie would have wanted you to be happy," Sam said honestly.

"Yeah." Joe checked his wrist watch. "I better get back to the cannery."

"All right, take care Joe," said Sam.

"Bye, Sam," said Joe. "I'll see you later."

Sam walked the young man out the door, and was alone in his cottage. He absentmindedly collected his paints and brushes to be either washed or put away. He contemplated going to the Blue Whale, inwardly debating if that would be a good idea or not. Before he could further contemplate this, a polite rapping emerged behind the front door.

Thinking it could be Sheriff Patterson, or someone to offer condolences over Maggie, Sam open the door and found... Willie Loomis.

"Willie?" said Sam surprised. "What brings you over here?"

Willie stood at the doorstep completely mystified. He honestly had no clue how he showed up here.

_You wanted to help the girl,_ the feminine voice echoed deep inside Willie's mind. _Tell her father where she is being held. Go and help her._

But another sound crept into Willie's mind. It wasn't a voice but a heartbeat. A morbid terrifying sound beating furiously through Willie's senses. The heartbeat of his master was beyond angry at this would-be betrayal.

Willie mustered all the might in his being to refrained from having a nervous breakdown in front of Maggie's father.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Artist and the Scent Of Jasmine**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine **

* * *

CHAPTER 7: THE ARTIST AND THE SCENT OF JASMINE

"Is there something wrong?" Sam cast Willie a fisheyed look as the young servant stood rather pale on the front doorstep. "Does Mr. Collins want me to paint him another portrait?"

"Oh, no." Willie shook his head with a very far away look in his eyes.

It was a look Sam couldn't quite decipher. Unbeknown to him, a hidden war raged inside Willie's mind.

_Tell him where his daughter is,_ urged the echoed feminine voice. _You want to save her. We both know you do._

But a violent vision cut through Willie's eyelids. A vision of Maggie laying dead across Josette's canopy bed in her ghostly wedding gown streak in the deep velvet crimson of her own blood. Her throat was torn out, and her dead glassy eyes stared up blankly. Then another vision interjected, a vision of Barnabas relentlessly beating Willie to death with his cane. The servant endured a most grueling and painful end.

Willie found himself back on the doorstep of the Evans cottage. Sam looked at him both impatiently and expectantly.

_Go on, reunite him with his daughter. You know it's the right thing to do._

But the gruesome disturbing vision his master attacked him with ultimately won out.

"M-Mr. Evans," Willie stuttered. "Mr. Collins t-told me the Sheriff f-found Maggie washed up o-on a beach."

A pained expression washed over Sam's face.

"I-I know I hadn't been real nice to her when I first came here," Willie continued, "but I wanna pay my respects."

Sam shut his eyes, and rubbed his brow with his fingertips.

Feeling like a complete insensitive moron, Willie tried gently stepping away, and said awkwardly, "I'll r-run along now."

"Wait," said Sam, gazing clearly at Willie. "I do appreciate your sentiment. And you did apologize to her before she was taken from me."

At that, it was Willie's turn to shut his eyes. He remembered that day well. Since Barnabas took claimed of his soul, Willie tried to undo some of his past wrongs. He apologized to Maggie for the way he first treated her just like he did with Vicki and Carolyn. It was the right thing to do.

"And I have received condolences from everyone in town," said Sam. "Even the Collinses. But despite what the Sheriff says, I cannot believe Maggie is dead."

"You don't?" Willie cast the artist a deep hopeful look.

"No, she's out there somewhere," insisted Sam. "I can feel it in my gut. She needs me."

"Oh, she does Mr. Evans," said Willie, and then instantly bit his tongue.

Sam frowned, and queried, "What do you mean by that?"

Gulping, Willie quickly backtracked at once. "What I meant was wherever she is, she needs ya."

Sam gave Willie a narrow uncertain look.

"I gotta get back to Mr. Collins." Willie attempted to once again step away from the door.

"All right, Willie," said Sam. "Thanks for the visit."

After watching the young servant walk away awkwardly, Sam shut his front door. As Willie returned back to his truck, he was haunted by numerous troubling emotions coursing right through him. Confusion on how he absentmindedly drove here, anger that he was somehow being controlled and manipulated, and disgust that he allowed his fear of Barnabas to thwart his attempts to help Maggie once again. To top it all off, Willie was certain Sam had just become suspicious of him. But Willie was also elated that Sam strongly believed his daughter was still alive. Despite that, Willie had to drive back to Maggie who he epically failed once again.

In his cottage, Sam was completely befuddled by Willie's visit. He retrieved his pipe from the coffee table, and as he was about to light it, a scent suddenly tickled his nose. With his lit match in hand, Sam paused.

This was a rather sweet scent. Something very floral and exotic like perfume. Something like jasmine. But how could it be? Why on earth was he smelling jasmine? There were no flowers in the cottage. Sam did received roses from people who were very sorry about Maggie, but he threw them all away. There was absolutely no reason why this stench would be in his house.

Then Sam realized this was not the first instance he inexplicably came upon this scent. He racked his brain and finally recalled he had smelt this at the Blue Whale not too long ago.

* * *

On the misty shabby front porch of the Old House, Josette materialized through the white columns and leaned against one of them in tremendous disappointment. She thought for certain the servant boy would reunite the girl with her father. But Barnabas' control was far too strong for her to penetrate fully.

Josette found it disheartening that her beloved was cruelly preventing his servant from helping the girl he cared about. She was also disheartened by how bitter Barnabas had become. Had he forgotten how black magic drove them apart?

She didn't want to believe Angelique's black heart would actually poisoned his forevermore. But Josette was beginning to have her doubts if she could... Oh, Josette didn't know what she thought.

Barnabas was a creature of darkness, and she a mere spirit from long ago.

Then she remembered Barnabas gifting her with jasmine at her grave, and the love they still carried for each other for all these centuries hadn't diminished.

_"It will be dark soon." _Jeremiah swiftly floated out of the manor, and joined his wife on the porch. _"The servant and the prisoner are still_ a _nuisance in this house. What are you going to do about them?"_

"_I'm trying to help them,"_ Josette said softly.

_"I've been inside the body of that servant,"_ Jeremiah said silkily through his bloody bandages with a resentful look in his dead horrid eyes. _"Barnabas marked him as his slave."_

"_I know the servant boy's desire,"_ Josette said airily. _"And he harbors some loyalty to me. After tonight, Barnabas shan't control anything in regards to this manor._ _I know what is best for him."_

"_I hope so."_ Jeremiah gleefully placed a deranged grin on his cold dead face.

He wrapped his arms around Josette's slender waist, and gracefully twirl their transparent litless forms up the salty sky, with weak sunlight enhancing their white glow.

* * *

After spending several hours with Sarah in Josette's bedroom, Maggie concluded she was a real nice little girl, but Maggie didn't know how much longer she could bear singing "London Bridge" to that antique doll.

Riddles were another favorite past time of Barnabas' kid sister, but Maggie hadn't recited any riddles since she was Sarah's age. Despite enduring not one but two tiresome melodies, one with Josette's mystical music box playing nonstop, and the other with Sarah's favorite nursery rhyme, Maggie somehow felt like a little girl again. She wondered if she could convince Willie to solve some of her riddles, but something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye through one of Josette's bedroom windows.

She thought she saw something shadowy dancing right by. But nothing was there.

Maggie inwardly dismissed it as something she must've imagine. But was it possible to imagine anything anymore?

When Maggie turned her gaze back to Sarah, the little girl suddenly vanished. Maggie was beginning to feel these types of comings and goings to be quite rude, but in actuality, she was relieved.

She decided to used her ghost-kid-free-time to find Willie. She hadn't seen him since that morning in the shambles dining room. The day was getting late, and Barnabas would expectantly arise from his coffin.

Between the poltergeists running amuck in the manor, and a vampire who held claim to this manor, and was likely quite livid from being overthrown by said poltergeists, Maggie didn't know what this could mean for her and Willie. She figured she should find the servant and discuss some things with him.

But there was another reason why she wanted to find Willie. Maggie couldn't get his confession of sorts out of her mind. How he wanted to protect her from Barnabas, but had either failed, or he could only help her to a small limited degree.

Maggie also found it interesting Willie actually went to Josette's ghost to help her. But, of course, that hadn't turned out very well.

But yet, even though Maggie was still a prisoner in the Old House, at least she wasn't locked up in a cell in a dark creepy dungeon. Maggie supposed she should give Josette a little credit for being more considerate than Barnabas. But she found it very frustrating she couldn't get back to her own home and back to her old life.

Earlier while playing with Sarah, Maggie couldn't open one of Josette's bedroom windows. They were closed impossibly shut like the front double doors down in the foyer. When Sarah inquired of Maggie why she was trying to open the window, Maggie covered by claiming she wanted the bedroom to have some air.

Why would the ghost of Josette want Maggie to remain in the Old House? Most of all, why wouldn't Josette show herself to Maggie and Willie like the ghost of Sarah, Jeremiah, and Joshua Collins did? With that, Maggie deeply wondered what Josette's motivations were. She felt Josette's unseen presence, but it never struck her as being something sinister. Eerie and spooky, yes, especially when the music box started opening itself up to play its tune, accompanied by the scent of jasmine, but none of these things frightened Maggie to death. It wasn't how Barnabas made her feel with the terror and revulsion. And Maggie once again reminded herself that Josette allegedly helped Vicki when she was in danger.

Then Willie's sincere and awkward confession crept right back into Maggie's confused jumbled mind. She thought of his stuttering explanation of how he tried to protect her from Barnabas. He did save her when that monster tried to kill her. (When she in turn failed to kill him.) But Maggie had no idea that Willie attempted to prevent his master's kidnapping plans for her, and took a brutal beating from that horrible wolf-head cane because of it.

Maggie also faintly recalled the horrible night Barnabas physically and psychologically brutalized her for escaping the Old House, and locked her in a coffin at the Collins mausoleum. Willie came to her at sunrise, and got her out. Maggie remembered how gentle Willie was to her, and then realized the way Willie always looked at her with such tenderness and devotion.

And something else... something powerful.

Something Maggie found completely overwhelming. She never had anyone look at her that way before, nor did she ever had a protector, albeit a bumbling one. Before Barnabas Collins barged into her life, or Willie Loomis for that matter, Maggie didn't need a protector.

She was far too busy taking care of her alcoholic widower father, and going to school, and tending to her waitressing job at the Collinsport Inn, and remaining to do that after graduation. Back then Maggie thought vampires only existed in old gothic novels and black and white movies. Collinsport, or more specifically, the manor of Collinwood, was famous for its many ghost stories, and bleak tales of young widows throwing themselves off a tall seaside hill bearing their grieving titles namesake in a act of despair.

But Maggie never knew the dead of Collinwood would ever disrupt her life and treated it like a game. And she especially didn't know that aimless scumbag drifter would tried to make himself her own ineffectual guardian angel in the midst of all this.

Maggie found it dizzying how circumstances could quickly change with the snap of a vampire's fingers.

Putting aside her jumbled thoughts, Maggie stepped out of Josette's bedroom, with the phantom lady's song and scent following right behind her.

As Maggie made her way down the hall, the Old House remained eerie and desolate as ever. But at the moment, there was no flying candlesticks, and the hall wasn't moving itself to caused her to stumble on her feet. She was also relieved the bandaged psychotic mummy ghost didn't pop out for the sole purpose to terrorize her.

When she reached the staircase, she gathered the skirts of her wedding gown, and slowly descended her way down. Midway through, the front double doors down in the foyer flung themselves open, causing Maggie to pause on the rickety steps.

Willie forlornly made his way into the Old House as the doors shut themselves tightly behind him. Willie acted as if the moving magical doors were something that was perfectly normal.

Maggie's eyes bulged.

"Willie!"

She rushed her way down the rest of the stairs, and hurried her way up to the servant at the front doors.

"When did you leave this house?" she asked him. "How did you leave this house?" she added puzzled. "We couldn't open those doors this morning."

Willie dropped his gaze downward with a look of total regret and shame washing over his face. But Maggie didn't notice this reaction. She rushed over to the double doors and once again attempted to turn the knobs, but like before, they wouldn't budge.

"Willie, how did you even get out of here?" she demanded. "Where did you go?"

Willie couldn't bear to look at her. How could he explain his bizarre absent-minded trip that led to him failing her again by refusing to reunite her with her father due to his own damn cowardice?

But Maggie was determined to find out what just transpired.

"Willie, tell me, where have you been?"

Willie turned his back on her.

"Josette must've let you out of the house," Maggie surmised. "She is the one controlling this place."

"The house is not hers entirely," Willie told her cryptically, his back still turned to her.

He gazed into the parlor, and found the furniture and items were not moving out of control like they were that morning. They'd return back to their expected spots. A severe dread coursed through Willie with the fact that in a few hours his master would rise and tried to restore order in his domain, and a determination to achieve that was already felt. The servant could feel that rushing down his spine. Willie didn't know what that would mean for Maggie or himself when that happened, but he could already sense his master trying to regain influence in the broken manor and snuffing out the phantoms carefree rampage. What more, the mystical melody of Josette's music box was starting to slowly diminish in the gloomy air.

Willie also knew Barnabas was more than aware of what his servant almost did back at the Evans cottage.

"What do you mean, Willie?" Maggie pressed softly behind him.

"The house is still Barnabas'," Willie said to her, still keeping his focus on the suddenly calm parlor. "That is why you're still here. You're still Barnabas' prisoner. But Josette wants the house."

"And she will have it," Maggie insisted, gritting her teeth behind him. "If it will eventually get us out of here."

"I dunno," said Willie. "I dunno what Barnabas will do when he gets outta his coffin. He'll probably kill us. He showed me how he will do it in my head."

"Willie..."

"He'll tear your throat out," Willie told her hastily, his back still turned to her stiffly and refusing to let her touch him. "And he'll beat me to death with his cane."

Those horrible violent images plagued Willie's mind again. An icy shiver creeped throughout his joints.

Maggie sharply turned him, forcing him to look at her straight in the eye.

"Willie, please tell me where you went."

Once again, Willie remained speechless.

"Josette let you out of the house," Maggie persisted stubbornly. "That's got to be the only explanation for how you left."

"Yeah, it must be," Willie conceded with a nod.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he had been hearing a regal lady's voice telling him to do things. Mainly to help Maggie. That had been going on since he pleaded to Josette's portrait for help.

But Willie feared the ghost lady's strategy to use him to help Maggie was not a wise move. Barnabas claimed his soul and Willie mustn't betray him. The events of the day abundantly proved that.

"So, we do agree that Josette let you out of the house," Maggie said.

"Yeah." Willie nodded.

"Where did you go?" Maggie once again asked him.

"T-to help y-you." Willie began to shake nervously. "But B-Barnabas won't let me."

"Because he controls you," Maggie said evenly.

"I saw how he was goin' to kill us," Willie reiterated, casting Maggie the most petrified look she'd ever seen. "I wanna help ya."

"I know, Willie." Maggie sighed.

She wrapped her arms around the shaky frame of her ineffectual angel and rested her head on his chest. Willie gratefully return her embrace, and his shaking began to lessen.

"I'm sorry," he murmured ruefully in a small voice.

"I know," she assured him gently.

Even though she was angry over the outcome of this, Maggie knew she couldn't lash out at Willie. It wasn't entirely his fault. Not really. The two continued holding each other. She began gently stroking his slightly trembling back, as he tenderly returned the gesture to the back of her shoulders.

"If it makes ya feel any better, your pop thinks you're still alive," Willie murmured to her.

Maggie softly gazed up at him with her chin resting on his chest as they continued their soft embrace.

"You saw pop?"

"Yeah, he thinks you're alive."

"Oh."

Maggie rested her head on his chest again, shedding some fresh tears. This was the best news she'd received in weeks. Her pop believed that dead body they'd found was not hers after all.

Her thoughts then shifted to Barnabas. Suddenly a whole new resolved creased within her eyes. If she wanted to return back to her pop, and permanently end Willie's torment, she must destroy Barnabas. And she must do this on her own.

* * *

As the afternoon dragged on, Sam drove his way up to the Collinsport Hospital. The late afternoon sun made its gradual slow descent across the sky. For some strange irrational reason, Sam found that sort of... off-putting.

Setting aside those sudden strange feelings, Sam made his way to the hospital, garbed in his long raincoat and aging fedora hat.

Passing by some nurses, orderlies, and visitors in the crowded lobby, Sam took the elevator up several floors. Once the elevator reached its destination, Sam strolled down the crowded and plain corridor, and rapped on the office door of Dr. Woodard.

Fortunately, Sam caught up to the doctor when he was able to experience some free time, and was not occupied with surgery or housecalls.

Dr. Woodard creaked open his office door, garbed in his long white lab coat, and wearing a pair of spectacles.

"Oh, Sam, come in." Dr. Woodard gestured for Sam to come in his office and shut the door.

Sam briefly observed his good friend's various diplomas and achievements he had proudly displayed in frames on his office walls.

He sat on a chair as the doctor sat behind his desk.

"I recently went through the autopsy report of that body," Dr. Woodard said delicately. "The body was very hard to identify but we know it was a young woman..."

"I don't believe it's Maggie," Sam interjected strongly.

"Oh?" Dr. Woodard raised his brows curiously.

"I still have a strong feeling she's alive out there, Dave," Sam said informally. "You probably think I'm crazy, clinging on to something that's completely hopeless."

"Not at all," Dr. Woodard said encouragingly, casting the lost father a sympathetic look. "If you think by some miracle that Maggie is alive out there and you can find her, then surely you should follow your instincts."

"Yeah, but still, the poor girl..." Sam muttered sadly, casting his gaze down on his lap as he thought about that body. He contemplated if he should collect his pipe out of his coat pocket but decided against it.

"So you don't believe the body was Maggie?" Dr. Woodard prompted, fiddling with his glasses at his desk.

Sam gazed up at the doctor, and replied resolutely, "Yes, that's right."

"What about Sheriff Patterson?" inquired the doctor. "What does he make of all this?"

"Well, he's not exactly as hopeful as I am," said Sam. "I'm beginning to think that even Joe is losing hope."

"What are you going to do?"

"Keep searching," said Sam. "I just can't stop thinking about the bizarre events that led up to her disappearance."

"Yeah, that was some frightening circumstances," Dr. Woodard agreed. "The two puncture wounds on her throat, and her erratic mood swings."

"And the constant howling of those wild dogs that followed her everywhere," Sam supplied. "And are still out there from time to time."

"I still can't get over the unnatural mutation forming in her blood cells." Dr. Woodard recalled that unnerving discovery in Maggie's blood samples shortly before she fatefully vanished.

"I take it Maggie's blood slides are still missing," Sam surmised.

"I'm afraid so." Dr. Woodard nodded somewhat resentfully. "After all, someone ransacked my office. Someone with unnatural human strengths that can overpower iron bars." Dr. Woodard cast Sam a serious look. "Sam, I'm afraid Maggie was abducted. Abducted by the powers of the supernatural."

A baffled Sam cast the doctor a dubious look. "Are you honestly serious?"

"Listen, Sam, I am a doctor," Dr. Woodard proclaimed. "I am a rational man, but I just can't dismiss the fantastic occurrences in this case."

"That's just too incredible to comprehend, Dave." Sam shook his head. "There's just got to be some logical explanation." He paused. Sam realized he really had no choice but to fully contemplate the fantastic occurrences surrounding his daughter's suffering and disappearance.

Dr. Woodard leaned toward his desk and gave Sam a deep empathetic look. "A lot of frightening things have been going on around here."

"I know, Dave," Sam reluctantly admitted, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his furry chin. "You know, something odd happened today."

"What is it?" asked Dr. Woodard.

"I received a rather strange and peculiar visit from Willie Loomis," Sam informed him.

"Willie Loomis? Say no more." Dr. Woodard leaned back in his office chair, fiddling with his glasses again.

"Yeah, he gave his condolences over Maggie," Sam explained. "He was acting very odd and nervous the whole time."

"Willie Loomis is a very odd young fellow," said Dr. Woodard. "I examined him."

"Yeah, but the strangest part happened after he left," Sam exclaimed. "A powerful whiff of flowers suddenly filled up my cottage."

"Flowers?" Dr. Woodard frowned. "Was it Willie's cologne?"

"No, it was like a woman's perfume," said Sam. "It was I believe the smell of jasmine."

"Jasmine?"

"Yeah, and there is no reason for my cottage to smell like jasmine."

"Could it be some perfume Maggie stored up in her bedroom by any chance?" Dr. Woodard asked steadily.

"No," Sam dismissed. "None of Maggie's perfume ever stunk up the house like that."

"Well, I guess that is very peculiar," Dr. Woodard conceded. "But it's hardly the same as ravenous dogs snarling about, and Maggie mysteriously sleepwalking to Eagle Hill Cemetery. Not to mention those bleeding marks on her neck."

"I know, but I smell this scent once before," said Sam. "At the Blue Whale not too long after Joe and I saw that body."

"The Blue Whale?"

"Yeah, and that's the last place for anyone to smell jasmine," said Sam bluntly. "And what more, I thought there was a woman's presence there. A woman I couldn't see."

"How many drinks did you have that night?" Dr. Woodard asked with a skeptical frown.

"A lot," Sam admitted with a defeated sigh. "But I was aware of what was going on. After today, I am more convinced than ever."

"Was Willie at the Blue Whale when you first smell this jasmine?" asked Dr. Woodard.

"No," Sam answered with a shake of his head.

"How could you be certain that this mysterious jasmine scent has anything to do with Maggie's disappearance? Or Willie?"

"I don't!" Sam cast his gaze downward again. "But like you said, Dave, frightening things have been going on around here. You just said that my daughter got abducted by the forces of the supernatural."

"Yeah, yeah." Dr. Woodard scoffed begrudgingly. "I wish Maggie's blood slides hadn't got stolen. I don't know why, but I think the horrifying occurrence in her blood cells will somehow hone in on this mystery."

"Willie suffered through similar symptoms Maggie suffered from, right?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, and I examined his blood, and he's completely clean," Dr. Woodard replied professionally.

"Yeah, given the life he led, I find that hard to believe," Sam countered. "Dave, do you suppose Willie's blood slides could've been switch like how Maggie's blood slides got stolen?"

"That's rather paranoid thinking, Sam." Dr. Woodard was taken aback. "Are you back to thinking that Willie has something to do with Maggie's disappearance?"

"I think there's some sort of connection between Maggie and Willie," said Sam.

"I want you to be careful," cautioned Dr. Woodard. "We don't really have a handle on all these dangerous occurrences."

"I know, but I won't let it interfere with the search for my daughter," Sam said determinedly. "Regardless of whether or not Willie is somehow involved."

Dr. Woodard gazed down on his wrist watch.

"I have a patient I need to tend to."

"Very well." Sam got up from his chair. "Thanks for listening, Dave. It's nice to have someone to talk to like this."

"Take it easy, Sam," said Dr. Woodard.

He walked the artist to the door. "Be careful, and contact me if you make any breakthroughs or unexplainable discoveries."

"I will," Sam promised.

He paused at the door. "You know, I think you and I should really start a detective agency."

Dr. Woodard chuckled, and walked Sam out the door. They departed in the corridor, and after passing by some patients and nurses, Sam made his way to the elevator. Once he stepped inside, he came upon a little girl.

This was excruciatingly heartbreaking for Sam. Every time he saw a little girl, he was reminded of Maggie, especially when she was small enough to sit on his lap.

Keeping his grieving emotions at bay, Sam put on a brave face, and grinned down at the child.

He realized she was pale and wore a long white dress with an old-fashioned bonnet. Sam assumed the hospital was hosting some costume party for some young patient somewhere.

Once the elevator's doors automatically closed, Sam pushed the button to take them down to the lobby.

He glanced down on the little girl again, and gently asked, "Are you lost sweetie?"

"I am not for certain," answered the girl.

Sam noticed she was clutching a small doll in her arms. A doll that appeared to be as old-fashioned as her dress and bonnet.

"I don't want my father to know I am here because my brother is very sick."

"Oh, that's too bad," Sam responded.

"My uncle Jeremiah says my brother has an incurable curse," explained the little girl.

"I think we should find a nurse," Sam told her. He had no idea what to make of that curse comment. "She will help you find the floor your family is on."

"I do have a friend," the little girl exclaimed. "But she is rather sad."

"I'll help you," Sam promised her.

Once the elevator came to a jolting stop, it _ding,_ and opened its doors to the front lobby.

Sam urgently stepped out, and gestured for the girl to follow.

"Come on..."

But when Sam looked over his shoulder, she had gone. He frantically searched the lobby with his heart racing, but there was no trace of her.

"Little girl!?" Sam called panically. "Little girl!?"

Some crowds of people glanced at the artist bewildered. It was as though the little girl was never there. But Sam was genuinely horrified. A young girl had suddenly vanish very much like his own daughter had. And just like in the case of his daughter, there was no explanation or reason why this girl vanish in the instant he turned his back on her.

One thing was for certain, Dr. Woodard was right; something terrifying was going on, something terrifying and weird.

* * *

As the waning red sun inevitably set over Widows Hill, Barnabas' blood was still boiling in his cold veins over the events from the night before as he rest uneasily in his coffin.

The image of Josette and Jeremiah's passionate affair in front of his very eyes burned inside his mind.

Even though they reenact this in the bodies of his lowly servant and his common captive, Barnabas pictured his beloved and his uncle reliving their betrayal in their own natural forms.

Despite that, Barnabas decided to eliminate his servant and his prisoner anyway.

At the instant arrival of dusk, Barnabas felt his strength returning, coupled with his searing rage. He was very much looking forward to restoring order in his own home.

Once his dark eyes shot open, Josette materialized inside the closed vampire coffin, with her jasmine and tingling melody accompanying her. She morph her body to become corporeal, and she nestled herself on top of Barnabas, with her lovely white ghostly glow illuminating the dark space.

Once their eyes locked, the vampire's earlier anger and rage melted away. She stared at him with Josette's gentle eyes, hers and not some cheap imitation.

And this was her scent and her music.

Barnabas' cold dead heart felt like it could tear itself out of his chest and fly. He learned long ago he could never remain angry and resentful at his lovely lady.

"J-J-Josette," the vampire stuttered, inwardly cursing himself for speaking like his imbecile servant, and not his usual suave, slithering self.

_"Hello, Barnabas,"_ Josette murmured softly. _"You visited my grave, and_ _I thought it would be customary that_ _I shall visit yours." _

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Un-Deadly Duel**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine **

* * *

CHAPTER 8: THE UN-DEADLY DUEL

As the ghost of Josette lay on top of him, Barnabas' cold dark eyes immensely softened. Josette was the only one who could force out these sensitive feelings and tear them out through the harsh biting exterior of his monstrous hard shell. Her music lovingly caress his ears, and her jasmine heavenly filled up his senses.

What more, her lovely body blissfully intertwined with his as they laid in the tight confines of his coffin with her white glow shimmering around them like sparks.

"Is it really you?" Barnabas asked softly, his voice cracking.

He hadn't seen her in nearly two centuries, and after all that time, she hadn't change. Death hadn't robbed her of her beauty or her gentle nature. She remained the woman he loved.

But after all that time, however, death hadn't been so kind to Barnabas. In fact, death and time was a sickening curse that did nothing but made a mockery of him.

"_I must confess,_ _I plan this rather suddenly,"_ Josette admitted with a small sheepish smile. "_I hadn't quite imagine our reunion being quite this intimate."_

Barnabas chuckled ironically but joyously beneath her.

_"And_ _I see you don't disapprove,"_ Josette observed lightly.

Barnabas reveled in the feel of her tingling unearthly body on top of his, and whispered, "I haven't seen you in so long."

_"You would have seen me sooner had you not banished me,"_ Josette said evenly.

Stung by her cold words, Barnabas squirmed beneath her guiltily, shutting his eyes. "I wanted to control my own life. I'm tired of being confined by someone else's will."

Josette gazed at him softly. "_I never wanted this for you, my darling."_

"Yes, I know." Barnabas groaned miserably, shutting his eyes again.

He then gazed up at her. "I am elated to see you again. In fact, I am more than elated. I am immensely overjoyed. More so in my long wretched existence. But I can't fathom why you deliberately summoned Jeremiah into this home, and reenacted that spell for the sole purpose of hurting me. And commanding my servant in the process."

_"You banish me from this home."_ Josette looked down on him narrowly with her whole body tensing up like ice. "_I needed to trigger_ _a powerful paranormal event to make the powers of this house mine again. But you won't stop clinging to it."_

"Then let's end this meaningless quarrel over this house," Barnabas suggested hopefully. "Why don't we live here together in harmony?"

He began stroking her long flowing chestnut curls with his tender dead fingers.

"_I am_ _a ghost and you are among the undead,"_ Josette answered him. _"Have you forgotten what_ _I said to you when you raised me from my grave against my will?_ _I lifted my veil..."_

Barnabas squirmed beneath her again from being forced to relive that horrific memory, and said hastily, "Yes, but you're not that grotesque creature any longer. And even all this time as a ghost you still love me."

Josette dropped a somber gaze downward.

"Possessed the body of that girl like you did the other night," whispered the vampire. "Finally become my bride."

_"You know_ _I will never do that!"_ Josette said appalled, her eyes wide.

"But we love each other," Barnabas argued desperately.

_"Yes, but don't you see, the curse drove us apart even in death,"_ Josette said woefully.

"I'll never accept that!" declared Barnabas. "We both know that even now our love still lives."

_"Yes, but you were never accustomed to accepting things as they are, Barnabas,"_ said Josette.

The lid of the coffin slowly creaked open above their heads. The ghost of Joshua Collins gazed down sternly on the somewhat compromised lovers.

_"You shall face reality my son."_

* * *

The blood-red light of dusk crept through Josette's bedroom windows. All the candles had been lit to obscure the darkness slightly away. Willie paced nervously about, wearing his windbreaker, while Maggie sat restlessly on the end of the canopy bed, leaning against one of the banisters.

The melody of Josette's music box had become weaker and weaker as the shadows of a much more frightening presence loomed throughout the manor, snuffing out much of the jasmine perfume in the process.

"Willie, the sun is setting," Maggie broke the silence.

"I know," Willie replied shakily, still pacing. He buried his face in his hands.

"Is Barnabas still in his coffin?" Maggie asked him.

Through his pacing, Willie halted... Sarah suddenly appeared in his tracks out of thin air, startling him. She looked up at the servant rather eerily but precocious.

"Well, hello, Sarah." Maggie smiled warmly at the child from the bed.

_"Maggie!"_ Sarah rushed over to the bed with her ever present doll in her clutches. She joined Maggie on the bed.

"All right, you stay here with the kid," Willie told Maggie. "I'll check on Barnabas."

"I want to go with you," Maggie said.

"No, I'll deal with Barnabas," Willie said firmly.

He went through the double doors, and left Maggie alone with the ghost girl. Maggie watched him go a little irate at his masculine dismissal, but also worryingly. What if Barnabas wanted to kill him?

_"Want to sing to my doll?"_ Sarah asked Maggie eagerly.

Maggie glanced at her. She was far too scared for Willie to play with her. She rather concentrate on how she should kill Barnabas.

_"Oh, look at that."_ Sarah gestured toward something beside Maggie on the bed.

The captive glanced down and found a wooden stake sitting inexplicably on the bedspreads right by her side. She picked it up and knitted her brow.

"Where did this come from?"

_"Uncle Jeremiah,"_ said Sarah.

"Uncle Jeremiah?" Maggie blinked.

_"Look behind you,"_ Sarah told her.

Warily and reluctantly, Maggie slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder. What she saw had her heart racing frantically against her ribs. Jeremiah stood before the bedroom windows by the soft candle glow, smirking at Maggie cockily through his bloody bandages. His horrible damaged eyes had a mischievous trickster gleam in them.

_"You're welcome."_ He cackled lowly and sinisterly.

* * *

_"Get out of the coffin you two,"_ Joshua commanded Barnabas and Josette in the same grizzled no-nonsense tone he carried when he was alive. _"We are_ _a family of morals and decency."_

Josette breezily floated herself out of the coffin, as Barnabas slowly climbed himself out of it and shut the lid.

No candle or torch was lit. The whole dungeon of the basement was thoroughly illuminated by the ghostly white glow of Joshua and Josette. There was no music or perfume in the air, greatly assuring the vampire he was still in control of the Old House.

"How interesting you still view ourselves as a family, father," sniped Barnabas.

_"We are_ _a proud family whose descendants are still holding strong to this very day,"_ Joshua said proudly.

Before Barnabas could respond, the metal basement door creaked open. Willie gingerly took small steps down the stairs. He paused midway down once he got a glimpse of two ghosts hanging around his master.

"B-Barnabas?"

"Wait upstairs in the parlor, Willie," Barnabas ordered him. "I'll summon you when I need you."

Willie continued gazing at the ghosts. He already met Joshua Collins, but the prim elegant lady was something new and familiar. Willie gazed at her flowing white gown and veil, and knew this was the lady he witness dancing on the front porch days ago in the powerful whiff of jasmine with that music box melody haunting the air. He knew with perfect clarity who she was.

_"Go on up, servant boy,"_ she urged him.

With a cross-eyed look over the words "servant boy," and the unwelcome familiarity of that, Willie nodded and went up the shadowy steps.

Once he was gone, Barnabas gave Josette a petulant look, and spat, "I see you are quite comfortable commanding my servant."

_"This house has been my domain for so long,"_ Josette said plainly. "_I shall continue haunting it."_

"With me as its master," Barnabas said silkily with a smirking look within his dark eyes.

_"With you as my guest locked up in that coffin,"_ Josette snipped, pointing a sharp finger at her lover's resting spot.

Barnabas gave a startled gaze at his coffin, and back to his lady again. "You'll really hold me as your prisoner?"

_"Yes,"_ she answered with no hesitation in her soft voice.

Barnabas flung at his father's transparent form, his fingers going through the ghost lapels of his father's frock coat, and snarled, "Why didn't you kill me long ago?"

_"Our family has suffered through enough death and destruction,"_ Joshua proclaimed somberly. _"Despite your monstrosity, our family shan't endure another loss."_

"You honestly think I want to continue on this way?!" Barnabas shot at him furiously. "Forever damned to wallow in the shadows of a witch's curse!"

"_I believe there is hope for you, Barnabas,"_ Josette echoed.

Barnabas gazed at her with soft dark eyes, letting go of his father's wispy transparent form, and asked, "What do you mean?"

_"In spite of everything you are still the man_ _I love,"_ Josette exclaimed. "_I believe there is_ _a way to lift the curse."_

"I honestly don't think that is possible," Barnabas stated sulkily.

_"Then_ _I shall put you to rest,"_ interjected a rough voice.

The ever damaged form of Jeremiah dematerialized into the dungeon.

"Well, how prudent of you to cut in, dear uncle!" snipped Barnabas. "You look even more ghastly when you're not possessing my servant."

_"There is no need for personal insults, dear son,"_ said Joshua. _"We all want to help you. Even Jeremiah. Though, your uncle has_ _a different method of helping you than Josette and_ _I_."

"_I do want what is best for the family,"_ Jeremiah insisted.

"Do you now?" Barnabas cast him a sharp look. "Would you do what my father refused to do all those years ago? Will you finally kill me?"

"_A stake in the heart will suffice, yes?"_ queried Jeremiah.

"I suggest something more grandiose," said Barnabas boldly. "How about silver bullets?"

_"Silver bullets?"_ Jeremiah cocked his bandaged covered head to the side.

"Yes," said Barnabas. "I challenge you to a duel."

_"No!"_ Josette protested heatedly. "_I refuse for you two to relive this tragedy for peevish reasons!"_

"Come now, my dear," Barnabas said malevolently, "if I win like I did long ago, no harm will come to Jeremiah. He'll be put to blissful rest."

_"And if_ _I win,_ _a silver bullet will pierce your bloody monstrous heart,"_ Jeremiah snarled vehemently.

"Exactly," Barnabas concurred.

"_I forbid it!"_ Josette hissed heatedly. She floated between the two dead men.

"My dear, you have no say in the matter," dismissed Barnabas. "I am still the proper master of this house, and what I say goes. But do you accept my challenge, Jeremiah?"

_"If_ _I win you are dead forever,"_ Jeremiah stated in chilling certainty.

"And if I win, you forever rest in your grave," countered Barnabas.

Jeremiah took a moment to think about it. _"Very well."_

_"No!"_ Josette cried disapprovingly, but Joshua grabbed her shoulders.

_"It fatally comes to this, my dear,"_ he told her sorrowfully. "_I don't want this to happen anymore than you, but we both knew there would be_ _a confrontation between them when they finally faced each other. There is nothing that can be done."_

"WILLIE!" Barnabas bellowed, his booming voice bouncing off the dark dusty walls throughout the manor.

The metal basement door flung open at once, and Willie came rushing clumsily down on the hard steps, as though he was running for his life. He nearly tripped on his way down.

"Yeah, Barnabas," Willie panted.

He noticeably tried not to panic over the intense grotesque presence of Jeremiah.

"Go upstairs to my old room, Willie," ordered Barnabas. "Retrieve my old pistol case."

Willie blinked. "Why d'you need your ol' pistol for? You got fangs, Barnabas, and your hands for chokin'."

"My dear Jeremiah and I are engaging in a duel," Barnabas explained to his sometimes loyal servant in a smooth gentlemanly manner.

"But you're both dead." Willie looked at the two men perplexed. "Guns won't kill any of ya."

"Get my pistol case, Willie!" Barnabas spat impatiently.

"Okay, Barnabas." Willie nodded obediently.

He spared a glance at Josette before he went up the stairs.

"You sure look a lot like her," commented the servant.

Josette grace him with a small smile.

"Willie." Barnabas shot him a death glare.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'."

Willie went up the stairs. Once he was gone, the vampire and his old phantom rival glared at each other maliciously. Josette shook her head disapprovingly, massaging her brow.

* * *

_"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, my fair Lady."_ Up in Josette's bedroom, Maggie and Sarah sang girlishly, as Maggie gleefully twirl Sarah about a couple of feet off the floor in the center in the old feminine Victorian bedroom. _"Take the key and lock her up, lock her up, lock her up, take the key and lock her up, my fair Lady!"_

The two burst out in wild giggles as Maggie returned Sarah's feet back to the floor. She slowly strolled up to the canopy bed with a withdrawn look masking her face as she glanced down on the antique doll and wooden stake lying seamlessly side-by-side on the bedspreads. Maggie picked up the doll and held it closely to her bosom. She moved to the side of the bed and sat down clutching the doll tightly.

Sarah noticed the blank look in her dark eyes, and gently sat herself next to her friend.

_"Is there something wrong, Maggie?"_

The captive slightly started by the sound of the ghost girl's voice, and insisted, "Oh, I'm okay. I just miss my pop is all."

_"Pop?"_ Sarah cocked her head.

"Yeah, that's what I call my father," Maggie explained to her.

_"Oh."_ Sarah nodded simply. _"Did he ever tell you stories?"_

Maggie giggled lightly, and replied, "Yes, lots. I wish I could paint him a picture to add to his collection. He's an artist, you see. I miss him so much."

Maggie heard a creak outside the bedroom's double doors. The sounds of footsteps were coming up the staircase. Maggie's heart pounded wildly.

"Sarah, I think you should go and play with David for a while."

_"Why, you don't like me any more?"_ Sarah pouted.

"Oh, no," Maggie assured her gently. "I just got something to do."

Maggie tried to keep her voice low, as the creaking footsteps drew nearer.

"_I have another friend,"_ Sarah exclaimed with a slight shrug.

"Then you should go see her," Maggie encouraged.

She returned the doll back to Sarah. Maggie then got off the bed and tried to keep her own footsteps silent as she slowly tip-toed to the double doors. Maggie opened one of the doors a crack and tried to peep out into the shadowy hallway. Expecting to spy the frightening upcoming form of Barnabas, Maggie instead saw the familiar features of Willie coming up the staircase. Maggie's dangerously racing heart mercifully settled. She burst through the doors.

"Oh, Willie!"

She flung herself into Willie's arms, and sobbed on his shoulder in great relief.

"Maggie?" Willie muttered, taken aback.

He slightly wrapped his arms around her waist, not knowing what to do.

"Oh, Willie, I was so scared when Barnabas screamed out your name," Maggie whispered to him softly. "I didn't know if he killed you or not."

Touched by her genuine concern, Willie returned her embrace much more warmly. He never had anyone who ever cared whether or not he lived or died. With that, Willie allowed himself to enjoy this tender moment with her.

He gently release her from his arms.

"Hey, I gotta get Barnabas' ol' pistol," he told her.

"Why?" Maggie softly frowned.

"Barnabas said he and Jeremiah are havin' a duel."

"With guns?" Maggie raised an astonished eyebrow. "But aren't they both dead?"

"Last I checked," said Willie. "But Barnabas told me to get him his pistol and I better do it."

_Jeremiah might use silver bullets,_ Maggie thought secretly to herself.

"Look, I don't get this, either," Willie said to Maggie. "But I think you better stay outta the basement."

"What about you?" Maggie gave him a concern look.

"Barnabas needs me," Willie muttered.

With a telling look on Maggie's face expressing her irksome feelings at those words, Willie exclaimed, "I saw Josette."

Maggie's eyes widened.

"And I do mean really saw her," Willie said. "She really looks a lot like you. Down to the dress and everythin'."

He gave her a glowing look of admiration and awe.

"Do you think she will really help us?" Maggie said with great uncertainty.

"I hope she helps you," said Willie.

He stepped away from her, and continued his way down the hallway. Maggie watched him go a little dejectedly. She stepped inside Josette's bedroom and shut the doors behind her.

To her relief, Sarah was absent, freeing her to be alone with her dark thoughts. Maggie firmly picked up the wooden stake on the end of the bed, and gripped it tightly. If Jeremiah failed killing that monster, then Maggie couldn't afford to.

* * *

Down in the basement, drenched in the surreal unnatural glow of the three Collins ancestors, Barnabas watched his father and uncle levelly, as the two discuss something privately in the back corner shrouded in thick cobwebs.

Barnabas observed his father handing Jeremiah a pistol. The vampire knew unlike the other night when Josette temporarily reclaim this old tomb of a manor, and his father surprised him with a gun loaded only with ghost bullets, the pistol will now contain the correct ammunition to bring Barnabas to his end.

But this was not just any ammunition. This weapon was custom-made long ago when Joshua promised to destroy his son, but was too much of a coward to do it.

Speaking of cowards, Barnabas impatiently wondered what was keeping Willie.

_"Why are you doing this?"_ Josette demanded of Barnabas. _"Why bother reopening old wounds when we both know the damage has been done long ago."_

"I made up my mind," Barnabas told her in a tone of finality.

_"To think,"_ said Josette thoughtfully, _"if this was different circumstances, you and Jeremiah would be teaching that young servant upstairs how to read and write, and encourage him to better himself as_ _a man like you did with Ben Stokes."_

_"Bless his soul,"_ Josette added fondly. _"You and Jeremiah wouldn't be doing this."_

"But we are, Josette," Barnabas said pointedly. "Jeremiah and I aren't friends any longer. I wish you hadn't brought him back to this house."

_"This duel won't get rid of the past,"_ Josette argued. _"Why are you so insistent on doing this?"_

Barnabas shifted his dark gaze at the two discussing phantoms on the dark cobweb corner.

"I suppose I'm curious to see if my dear uncle will actually succeed where my father has failed," he answered her.

Josette was surprised by those words, but before she could further respond, Willie gingerly made his way down the dark basement steps once more. He carried an old wooden case covered in heavy dust. Once he made it down into the dungeon, the servant handed the case to his master.

"Here ya are, Barnabas."

The vampire took the case without thanking his servant. He placed it on top of his coffin, and pried it open. As he expected, his old rusty pistol awaited inside.

Barnabas' sensitive ears picked up Josette and Willie whispering amongst themselves. It seemed the ghost lady was explaining to the servant why a duel was occurring, and what the stakes were. Willie noticeably became very apprehensive.

The vampire blocked out their voices. He was pleased his now antique pistol still seemed to be in working order.

"Are you ready, dear uncle?" Barnabas called.

_"More ready than you,"_ said Jeremiah. "_I won't be the one who will die from this."_

"Perhaps you will be the one to end the family curse at long last," Barnabas stated sportingly.

"_I don't recall_ _a time without misery,"_ said Jeremiah meekly. _"But there was_ _a time that you and_ _I were not monsters."_

"Perhaps our monstrosities will finally end tonight," said Barnabas.

_"Darling, this ridiculous and contemptible duel will not make me surrender this house,"_ Josette retaliated. "_I will continue to haunt you till the bitter end if_ _I have to."_

Barnabas ignored her.

"Shall we begin?" he said to his uncle, as though they were getting ready to play a game of chess.

_"How are we going to do this?"_ queried Jeremiah.

"We walk ten paces and fire," Barnabas instructed. "Oh, and I like to make a request."

_"What is that?"_

"I would like for you to remove this ghastly facade," said Barnabas challengingly. He gestured toward his uncle's reprehensible bloody and tattered phantom appearance. "If you are going to fight me, relinquish the costume. Fight me as the gentleman you were before I fatally put that bullet in your skull all those years ago."

Jeremiah considered his nephew's words. There was no hint of emotion in his dead eyes.

His ghostly form suddenly shifted in a series of fuzzy blurs. As requested, Jeremiah morphed himself into a human man. Someone who wasn't damaged and permanently scarred. His clothes no longer tattered. But he was also someone who looked undeniably uncanny compared to one of the denizens of Collinsport. Remarkably, that was another man Barnabas deeply loathed.

Jeremiah shared the same exact resemblance to Burke Devlin.

Willie balked. Was there someone in Collinsport's past who didn't physically resemble someone in the present time?

"Yes, you now look like a gentleman." Barnabas eyed him approvingly.

He was obviously pleased his uncle actually followed his command. Further proof that Barnabas was still the proper master of the Old House.

"Shall we get started?"

_"Son,_ _I hope you do know we only want to help you,"_ Joshua murmured softly, giving his son a rather pitiful look.

"Father, I am beyond help, I'm afraid," said Barnabas. He gazed at his uncle. "Are you ready?"

_"Yes,"_ Jeremiah answered in a voice that sounded human and not demonic. His newly spruced up features carried a heavy look of determination.

"Then let's prepare ourselves," said Barnabas.

After taking the time to recheck their weapons, the two dead men relocated to a different section of the dark imposing basement that was completely unused to allow them space to carry out their duel. There were no candles or torches in this even creepier and more sinister area of the basement. It was eerily illuminated by the white glow shrouding the ghosts.

As Barnabas and Jeremiah stood back-to-back with their respective pistols in hand, Willie watched transfixed as well as frightened. Barnabas had told him the story of how he destroyed Jeremiah. Willie couldn't believe he was witnessing them reliving that event. And not only that, but this could permanently bring the final death to one of them. Willie always thought his master was invincible and death would never claim him. Could this really end that?

Barnabas gave out his command, and he and Jeremiah stepped out their paces, with Barnabas counting.

"One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten..."

The two stealthily turned at the final number, and... **BANG!**

Willie tightly shut his eyes, inhaling silvery gunpowder. After listening to several pounding heartbeats, the servant slowly opened his wary eyes, and found his master still standing. He was completely unharmed.

"You have miss, Jeremiah," the vampire declared smugly.

Tremendous disappointment washed over Jeremiah's very human features, dropping his own smoking pistol down to the black stone floor which faded away like mist in the cold salty sky.

"With your defeat, I banish you from this house. Go on, Jeremiah, rest in peace. That is our bargain. Enjoy the luxury I shall never receive."

Barnabas watched with great satisfaction as his uncle and former friend drifted away, leaving forever to rest in his grave. With that, Barnabas shot a sharp glare at his father.

"I command you leave as well, father. I do not need a prison guard to watch over me. The night I return to this home I vow to live my life on my own terms. That is what I shall do."

_"It is foolish of you to walk this earth as_ _a cursed man,"_ Joshua argued impassionedly.

His transparent form, too, faded into nothingness. With his departure the whole basement plunged into deep blinding darkness.

This caused Willie to light a match. As the servant lit some candles throughout the basement, he realized Josette had vanished as well. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Willie wondered if his master's banishment of his father and uncle also applied to his alluring lady.

Barnabas, however, seemed satisfied by the phantoms departure. He had a determined gleam in his black eyes.

"I will live my life," he whispered harshly to himself.

Willie didn't like that look in his eyes. He knew that frightening expression all too well. It was a look that his master was on a dastardly mission. A mission to harm and hurt others just to nurture himself. It was a mission to hurt Maggie.

Barnabas stormed his way up the basement steps. Willie followed closely behind him.

But when the vampire reached the basement door, he stepped out, and promptly slammed the metal door on his servant's face and locked him in the basement. Willie frantically turned the locked knob.

"Hey! What are ya doin'?!"

"I will not wither away bound in chains, Willie!" Barnabas spat resentfully. "I'm going to live as I see fit!"

"Barnabas, what d'ya mean?" Willie said befuddled through the bars of the door. "You're not locked in that coffin anymore. I let ya out. There's no need to lock me in here."

"You will remain here until you are required," Barnabas said firmly.

He shadowed away from the door, and made his way toward the staircase.

"Barnabas, where are ya goin'?" Willie called worryingly through the bars. "What are ya gonna do to Maggie?"

The vampire ascended slowly up the staircase. Willie banged on the door panically.

"Barnabas don't ya hurt her! D'you hear me? Don't hurt her, Barnabas!"

_"Servant boy."_

Willie whirled around. With his heart pounding madly in his chest once more, he came face-to-face to the alabaster transparent form of Josette.

Willie's eyes widened. She hadn't abandon the Old House after all.

* * *

As the gloomy night shrouded the Evans cottage on its hill, Sam sat on his couch in the living room, doodling a sketch on his lap by the lamp light. This was the only way for him to think clearly on figuring out how to conduct his own independent investigation on his missing daughter.

But Sam's mind was also troubled. He couldn't stop thinking about his encounter with that mysterious little girl he met at the hospital. The little girl in the old-fashioned clothing who suddenly vanish in a quick flash.

Sam had frantically searched the whole hospital for her, and alerted the hospital staff of her disappearance, but there was no sign of this unusual child. Sam began to wonder in the midst of his grief over Maggie, he somehow imagined this girl.

_"Hello."_

Sam gazed up from his pen and paper, and to his complete shock, there stood the little girl that had been troubling his thoughts. The artist's jaw dropped rather comically.

"Where did you come from?" he gasped exasperated, repressing a heart attack.

_"Outside,"_ the girl answered vaguely with a slight shake of her shoulders. "_I just came in."_

Sam turned his stunned gaze on the closed and locked front door from the couch, and gaped at the child.

"Did you come in here without using the front door?" he asked breathlessly.

_"Yes."_ The girl nodded.

Sam rubbed the whiskers on his chin and took in her words. Perhaps maybe she came in from a window left opened, and snuck in here.

The girl stepped up to the couch with an antique little doll in hand, and sat herself next to the artist. She glanced down on the simple sketch he drew.

_"Did you do that?"_

"Yes." Sam nodded. "It's a little girl."

_"Like me?"_ she smiled brightly.

"Yes," answered Sam in a broken smile. "She's my daughter. She's been missing for quite some time, and I'm searching for her."

"_I hope you do find her,"_ said the girl.

"Me too," said Sam, gazing down on his somewhat crude sketch.

"_I pose for_ _a portrait once,"_ the girl said randomly." _"Have you ever painted_ _a portrait of your daughter?"_

"Yes, long ago," answered Sam. He shifted his gaze back to the girl. "Tell me, sweetie, where are you from?"

"_I live here in Collinsport,"_ the girl claimed.

Sam furrowed his brow.

"That's funny, I've lived here for the majority of my adult life, and I never seen you around here. Are you new in town?"

_"No."_ She shook her head.

Puzzled, Sam nonetheless continued his questioning.

"Where do you live?"

"_A big house on top of_ _a hill,"_ the girl replied earnestly.

"And what is your name?"

_"Sarah."_

"Sarah." Sam thoughtfully rolled the name on the tip of his tongue. "Tell me, Sarah, when we met at the hospital, you scared me half to death when you just disappeared when I stepped out of the elevator. Where did you go?"

_"What is an elevator?"_ the girl queried with a quizzical frown.

"Oh, I'm not in the mood for games," Sam responded tersely. "You frightened me when you vanish from the elevator. Where did you go?"

"_I'm sorry_ _I frightened you,"_ Sarah apologized sincerely. "_I went to see my friends."_

"And where are your friends?" said Sam.

_"At my old house,"_ replied the girl.

"And you live in a big house on a hill?"

_"Yes."_ Sarah nodded.

"And this is your old house?" Sam inquired with a frown.

Sarah nodded again.

Sam was once more puzzled. This girl claimed she lived in a house on a hill somewhere, but she apparently doesn't live there anymore. Unexpectedly for the artist, Sarah suddenly began glancing around the living room with an urgent look in her pale eyes.

"_I have to go,"_ she said, while Sam glanced down on his sketch trying to figure out the house conundrum.

"Now, wait a minute..." as soon as Sam returned his gaze back on the girl, she was gone.

This was how it exactly happened at the hospital.

"Sarah?" Sam called, staring around. "Sarah?"

Growing panic, Sam frantically searched his cottage, but found no trace of this little girl anywhere. What more, all the windows were shut tight and locked, and the locked front door was completely unused. How did this girl came and went from his cottage?

Wasting no time, Sam picked up the phone in the living room, and dialed Dr. Woodard's number.

_"Hello?"_

"Hello, Dave," Sam said calmly into the receiver. "Remember what you said about terrifying things going on around here?"

_"Yes, it was this afternoon,"_ Dr. Woodard answered matter-of-factly.

"Well, something strange just happened to me."

Sam informed the doctor over his bizarre run-in with Sarah at the hospital, and her peculiar visit at his home. Sam also filled in on the personal information he found out about her, and how he had never seen her in Collinsport until today.

_"So she's some kid who lives up on_ _a hill and vanishes?"_ Dr. Woodard surmised on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, and there's nothing normal about this little girl," said Sam. "Twice in a row she nearly caused me to have a heart attack."

_"And you said she wears old-fashioned clothing?"_ Dr. Woodard's voice prompted.

"Yeah, very old-fashioned," said Sam.

_"Do you think this Sarah child has any connection to this jasmine perfume you keep smelling?"_ said Dr. Woodard. _"Or Willie Loomis' inexplicable visit to your cottage?"_

"I don't know," answered Sam apprehensively. "I can't make heads or tails of whether or not these things are connected."

* * *

In the dark desolate basement of the Old House, Willie, with his frame pressed against the metal basement door, faced the ever elegant and luminous ghost of Josette. Her transparent form helpfully illuminated the dark and creepy space as always.

"Y-Your s-still h-here," Willie stuttered characteristically, awe-struck over her presence.

"_I never left here,"_ the ghost murmured softly.

To Willie she was an absolute lady. Even though she looked a lot like Maggie, she was nothing like her. Maggie was more down to earth, normal, and alive, nothing like this dead prim noblewoman of privilege.

"Ya hafta go upstairs!" Willie urged her breathlessly. "Barnabas is gonna hurt Maggie or worse. Ya really hafta help her."

_"But you are the one that wants to help her,"_ Josette said presently.

"I do what I can," Willie muttered. "But Barnabas locked me in here."

With that, the servant despondently made his way down the stairs, passing by Josette's chilly form, making him felt as though he passed through a curtain of icy rain freezing his whole insides. He lit a match to light the torch displayed on the dark stone wall to contrast with the dim litted candles to offer better lighting in the dank cobweb infested darkness.

_"But you want to help her dearly, servant boy,"_ Josette persisted, hovering over his shoulder with her white gown flowing gracefully around her like she was swimming underwater.

Willie glared up at her, and spat affronted, "Stop callin' me servant boy! My name is Willie!"

Hovering above him, Josette gave him an aristocratic frown, and uttered, _"Willie? As in William?"_

"No, as in Willie," he hissed impatiently.

"_I beg your pardon,"_ Josette said apologetically. "_I didn't mean to offend you. But in my defense, you are_ _a servant."_

"Yeah, but you better call me Willie."

_"Very well... Willie."_ Josette nodded civilly. _"Even though William is much more noble._ _I am Josette Collins. You came to me for help in_ _a moment of desperation."_

"Yeah, I know." Willie turned his back on her. "Ya shouldn't have used me to help her."

He leaned against his master's coffin, rubbing his brow by the empty pistol case. He turned his foreboding gaze on the second coffin.

"Y'know I hafta be loyal to him."

_"But you are also devoted to her,"_ said Josette knowingly. She floated down and touched his tense back shoulders. Her cold unnatural touch caused Willie's whole body to jolt as though he was being struck by lightning. _"You shouldn't be this burdened over your master and your lover,"_ Josette whispered to him kindly.

_Lover?_ Willie thought that was an interesting word.

"It seems that I am," he murmured in a small voice.

* * *

In the eerie candle lit upstairs hallway, Barnabas lurked to the double doors of Josette's bedroom. He roughly forced the doors open, expecting to find Maggie cowering inside. However, once the doors were forced open, not a living soul was in the refurbished bedroom. Candle light only faintly lit the space, and the whole bedroom was mostly shrouded in deep shadows.

"Maggie?"

Barnabas searched the bedroom, inspecting the dark corners, and then the wardrobe for his bride. He even inspected under the bed, but the bedroom evidently didn't hold Maggie.

Upon getting up to his feet after checking under the bed, Barnabas gazed upon a woman ghost standing forlornly by the double doors. She was the bright transparent ghost of his dear mother Naomi, dressed in a white flowing gown. Her dark curls drapped around her elegant shoulders.

At the haunting sight of her, Barnabas gasped, his dark eyes growing round.

_"Will you allow me to help you, Barnabas?"_ she pleaded gently.

Barnabas' cold dead heart did something it did not do in all his centuries. It shattered to pieces.

The memory of his sweet mother's unfortunate discovery of what her son had become, and her subsequent death in his arms by the family curse was still intensely raw to the vampire's tainted soul. Even now, Barnabas refused to come to terms with it. At least not on the surface where everyone could see only what he desired for others to see.

"There is nothing you can do," Barnabas told her solemnly. "What is done is done. Rest in peace, mother. Forget all about me, I am living my life as it is."

The matronly ghost stared at her son both sadly and silently. As if figuring it was pointless to reason with him, Naomi faded away, leaving her son alone to wallow with the demons on his chest.

After her departure, Barnabas resumed his search for Maggie. After inspecting the whole upstairs, Barnabas descended down to the main floor.

The foyer was calm as it should be. The basement door remained closed, assuring the vampire his servant was still keeping put.

He advanced to the parlor, where all the candles were lit, but there was still no trace of a living soul.

Barnabas moved to a section of the house that was underused. No candles were lit, and everything was veiled in pure darkness. It was a perfect area for his helpless prey to hide from her predator. Unfortunately for her, Barnabas relish the dark. This would not prevent him from catching her. His unnatural primal instincts were fully alert.

"You can't escape me, Maggie!" Barnabas spat.

Expertly stalking his way down the corridor covered in thick dust and cobwebs, and moonlight failing to filter in through the dirty windows, Barnabas passed the kitchen, and reached the end of the dark corridor.

The vampire willfully flung open the doors of the dining room. On the surface, this once glamorous room became swallowed by time, and seemed soulless.

However, Barnabas sense a presence.

"Come on out, Maggie!" snarled the vampire.

He stepped up to the long dining room table through the darkness, and observed the confounding sight of a dead lobster covered in a unflattering creamy substance, reeking with a nauseating odor. Before Barnabas could properly react to this, something struck him hard in the back of his skull.

Barnabas whirl around and faced his prey at long last.

A fiery gleam spark within Maggie's dark eyes. With a loud shout, she swung the bronze candlestick in her tight grip, and struck her captor hard across the face.

His own dark eyes blazing, Barnabas gripped tightly on Maggie's throat.

Refusing to hesitate, Maggie withdrew her stake she had hidden in the lacy sleeves of her wedding gown, and blindly stab the vampire in the chest. His eyes widened in shock, Barnabas released her throat, and stared down on the stake impaled within him.

In penetrating pain, Barnabas pulled the stake out of his bleeding chest, his undead heart unaffected, and threw it unceremoniously aside. For the second time that night, Barnabas stunningly avoided the blows of death.

"You miss the heart, my dear." A sickening smirk etched across the vampire's mouth.

Before Maggie could react, Barnabas roughly restrained her, and sank his sharp fangs into the soft silky flesh of her neck, thus reopening her old bite wounds. He sucked her sweet blood in ravenous ecstasy.

Maggie was so in shock, she didn't had time to fully react.

Before Barnabas could continue drinking from her, yet another blow struck him from behind.

_How many times must_ _I endure this?_ he thought savagely.

This time however, the blow didn't strike him on the back of the head, but rather his back shoulders.

Barnabas roughly released Maggie, pushing her aside, and spun around. Willie stood before him with a wild look in his eyes. He'd wielded his master's wolf-head cane in his firm but shaky grasp. How ironic of him to use the same exact instrument his master used on him for punishment so many times.

"Barnabas, you leave her alone!" Willie warned gruffly.

"How did you get out of the basement?" Barnabas demanded in a scowl. "You were locked in."

"I used the key I always carry with me," Willie explained steadily.

At this, Barnabas had no choice but to acknowledge his mental control over his servant was waning and had been for quite some time. What else to explain his constant disobedience and disregard to loyalty?

This merely needed to be rectified.

Barnabas dutifully reclaim his beloved cane from his servant's pathetic grasp and then hit him relentlessly on the head with it, sending him painfully down on the dusty floor as he screamed out repeatedly.

Maggie watched both stoically and motionless. She was somehow drawn to her captor and mustn't go against him.

But Barnabas didn't stopped his abuse on Willie there. He bend over, roughly grabbed the lapels of his windbreaker, moved aside the turtleneck covering his throat, and sank his fangs into the servant's neck, and began drinking his blood.

Maggie watched both helpless and motionless. The side of her own neck oozed with blood, deeply staining the top of her white ghostly wedding gown.

Barnabas released his servant, and towered triumphantly over him, his mouth drench in crimson.

"You both are in my control now," he declared. "Neither of you will undermine me again."

Willie gazed up at his master with blurry eyes. He covered his own massively oozing neck staining the top of his turtleneck and windbreaker.

"I need you to prepare the parlor, Willie," commanded Barnabas. "Josette and I will be married at once."

The vampire gestured toward Maggie, who looked at him every bit as blankly as Willie. She tried to stop the bleeding on her own neck with her hand.

"You will perform the ceremony, Willie," the vampire said importantly.

On the floor, Willie was inwardly mortified by this command. But he could only blink blankly, and nodded obediently. There was no urge to protest or rebel. Willie and Maggie were under the thrall of Barnabas.

Music unwelcomely cut into the dead silent air. A familiar tune which for once was not the song from Josette's music box. It was a child's song. A nursery rhyme, being performed by an invisible dour flute.

Barnabas' cold dead heart once again shattered to pieces. To him, this was the saddest song in the world. It belonged to a special girl he loved deeply. A girl he may actually loved more than Josette herself. The first person he loved to died in his arms.

To Barnabas' complete horror, little Sarah stood innocently by the dining room's double doors. Her soft glow illuminated the dark space like moonlight.

Barnabas' black eyes bulged in shame for his sister to witness him in the company of his prey and his servant with their blood on his mouth, and a bloody wound marking his chest. When she initially saw him with blood on his mouth when she was alive, she was so terrified, she ran away screaming. Now, however, she merely stood desensitized, and glared at him with blistering disappointment.

_"You can't marry Maggie, Barnabas,"_ she stated. _"She is not Josette."_

Those words cut through Barnabas. He never knew why fate wouldn't allow him to be happy with his own love. But one thing for certain, he will not allow his family to imprison him again.

As he stated to Josette on the night he became master of the Old House, he will live his own life, whatever that will turned out to be.

"She is not Josette," Barnabas admitted to his sister. "But I will see to it that she and I will be blissfully happy together. Just like how it was supposed to be for Josette and I."

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Wedding**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine **

* * *

CHAPTER 9: THE WEDDING

The shadowy night crept through the windows of the Old House as Willie finished positioning a white arch by the glowing fireplace in the parlor. It was an old arch he'd snatched from the gardens on the grounds of Collinwood. Much of its once flawless white paint had been peeled off by years of stormy Maine weather, but it was completely unnoticeable in the eerie candle light.

Not even the burning glow from the fireplace could shed light on the aging blemishes on the arch. Since it was old and withered, Willie figured it would blend in naturally with the rest of the centuries-old items.

Barnabas would have no qualms marrying his "Josette" in its presence.

_Are you really going to marry your lady off to that monster?_ echoed a shrill and recognizable feminine voice resounding deep within Willie's head.

The bleeding bite wounds from earlier burned the side of Willie's neck. A dirty white cloth was taped on his wound to feebly stopped the bleeding. But it couldn't contained the vampire venom coursing through his veins.

Willie barely registered the invisible ghost lady's scolding. He needed to cut fresh flowers to further the preparations for his master's wedding.

* * *

The pale moon peeped through the clouds in the dreary night sky, as Sam, back in his rain coat and fedora hat, drove his station wagon up Widows Hill.

Sam spent much of his night driving around aimlessly, checking out hillside homes, speculating where Sarah could live. The girl hadn't given Sam her proper home address, only that she lived in a house on top of a hill. There was apparently another house Sarah used to live in, but Sam figured that didn't hold any relevance.

Driving briskly by the Old House where Barnabas Collins resided, Sam drove closer and closer to the towering and haunting silhouette of Collinwood, with its towers and turrets reaching up to the misty night. It looked like an ancient gothic castle. It gave Sam the creeps every time he gazed up at it, especially at night.

Since it was one of Collinsport's hillside homes, and its most famous one at that, Sam figured it wouldn't hurt to stop by to ask the Collinses if they knew of other families with children living in hillside homes in the area.

Sam predicted they wouldn't and it would further confirmed he was losing his mind due to his grief over Maggie. But Sam had grown tired of doing nothing. He needed to do something productive. He needed to scout out these homes and figured out where Sarah lived, even if this way of thinking was completely crazy. But since he lost Maggie, he didn't really have anyone to keep him on the straight and narrow.

He knew Sarah didn't lived in Collinwood, but all the strange and bad occurrences that often happened in this town always seemed to be connected to that ancestral home.

He finally drove up to the mansion, and parked his station wagon by the front of it. He got out of his car, and trudged his way to the front double doors. He used the knocker to noisily rapped on the front doors. Collinwood governess, Victoria Winters, answered, giving the artist a soft and pleasant smile.

"Hello, Mr. Evans," she greeted him earnestly. "Is there any news about Maggie?"

"No, unfortunately." Sam cast his sad gaze downward, but then looked up at her again. Pleased to have Vicki to answer the door, as opposed to Roger Collins, whom Sam shared an unfortunate alliance with not too long ago, Sam told Vicki, "I like to ask you something."

"Of course." Vicki welcomed the artist in and shut the front doors. She escorted him across the spacious gothic foyer and into the drawing room.

The notoriously reclusive matriarch of the Collins family, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, sat on the couch reading a volume. She wore a black dress with a white pearl necklace to contrast it with.

The glow of the fireplace and the elaborate gothic paneled walls was the main attraction of the room. Sam tried not to be tempted by Roger's magnificent brandy collection he had displayed in his own area of the room.

Elizabeth gazed up from her reading, and smiled kindly at the visitor. "Hello, Mr. Evans. Is there any news on your daughter?"

"I'm afraid not," answered Sam.

"Mr. Evans wants to ask me something," Vicki explained to Elizabeth.

"Oh, I'll leave you two alone then." Elizabeth shut her volume, intending to get up from the couch, but Sam insisted, "I'll like for you to stay, Mrs. Stoddard."

"Oh?" Elizabeth raised a delicate brow. "Is it about Maggie?"

Sam honestly didn't have an answer to that question.

"No, but it concerns another girl," he decided to say. "A little girl around David's age. She has long brown hair and wears an old-fashioned dress with a little bonnet. Her name is Sarah. Do any of you know anything about her?"

Sam was expecting the inevitable answer; the two ladies would know nothing of this girl. But surprisingly, he'd received a completely opposite answer.

"David knows her," Vicki exclaimed helpfully.

Sam gave her a surprised look. "David knows her?" he said hopefully.

"Yeah, he talks about her quite frequently," Elizabeth filled in. "But he's the only one that sees her. We all assumed she's just an imaginary friend."

"But he strongly speaks of her as if she is real," said Vicki, sounding as if she was staunchly defending her charge from his aunt's criticism.

"Is David in bed?" Sam inquired of the governess.

"He's upstairs in his room studying," Vicki replied. "Would you like to speak with him?"

"Yes, please." Sam gazed at Elizabeth, and asked politely, "If that's all right?"

"Of course." Elizabeth shrugged from the couch.

"I'll go and get him." Vicki exit out of the drawing room.

Sam joined Elizabeth on the couch, fiddling with his fedora hat with his fingers.

"How have you been, Mrs. Stoddard?" he asked conversationally.

"All right, I suppose." Elizabeth placed her volume on the coffee table. Sam noted the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. Seemingly, her engagement with Jason McGuire was not on the mutual side.

Fortunately, Vicki returned, thankfully cutting through their awkward tension. Young David Collins accompanied his governess. The boy wore a sweater vest and khakis, and grace the artist with a bright smile.

"Hi, Mr. Evans," said David cheerily. "I'm sorry Maggie is still missing," he added sympathetically.

"Yeah, me too," said Sam.

"Miss Winters says you want to ask me something," said David.

"Yes, it's about a little girl named Sarah."

David raised a curious brow. "You saw Sarah?"

"Yes, a couple of times," said Sam. "She has long brown hair and wears an old-timey dress with a bonnet."

"A bonnet?" David cocked his head. "Is that the funny hat she wears?"

"Yes." Sam nodded.

"That is Sarah!" David said ecstatically. He looked at Sam with such wonder. "You've really seen her?"

"Yeah, it seems that we might be the only ones that have," said Sam.

"Why do you say that?" David asked him.

"I met her at the hospital," Sam informed him. "She says she has a sick brother, but the people at the hospital haven't seen her and thinks no family of hers are admitted to them."

"What were you doing at the hospital?" Elizabeth queried curiously.

"I was visiting Dr. Woodard," Sam explained. "He's been a real friend during this whole ordeal with Maggie."

"Where in the hospital have you met Sarah?" David asked Sam.

"In the elevator going down into the lobby," Sam answered the boy.

"It was just the two of you?" David prompted.

"Yes."

"That's how Sarah came to me," David exclaimed with a knowing smirk on his face. "She likes to meet me in secret."

Sam took those words in and nodded thoughtfully. He inwardly noted that Sarah in both of his personal experiences with her had come to see him in secluded privacy.

"Did she ever mentioned to you that she has a sick brother or a uncle named Jeremiah?" Sam asked David. "And that she has some friends that live in a house she used to live in?"

"No." David shook his head. "But she did tell me she has parents, but I really know nothing about them."

"Do you know where she lives?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Not really," David replied in a casual shrug. "But I think she lives pretty close by."

"You do?" Sam cast the boy a deep hopeful look.

"Yeah, but I don't know where," admitted David.

"We know she has a family around here," said Sam, rubbing the whiskers on his chin.

"Then they shouldn't be too hard to find," Elizabeth surmised.

"I hope so." Sam sighed.

"Do you like Sarah?" David asked the artist suddenly.

"Yeah, she seems nice," said Sam.

"I think so, too," David agreed. "But she likes to sing stupid baby songs like 'London Bridge'. Did she ever sing that song to you?"

"No, I don't think that she has," said Sam.

"Boy, aren't you lucky," David drawled.

"David, I keep telling you that there's many children out there that loves singing that song," Vicki chided.

"It's getting late," Elizabeth cut in. "You should get ready for bed, David."

"Do I have to?" David whined, gesturing toward Sam. "I have a guest here."

"Oh, I was just getting ready to leave," Sam told the boy. "I know it's getting late."

"Sarah might come to see me later," said David thoughtfully. "She sometimes visits me in my room in the middle of the night."

"Does she now?" Sam raised a stunned brow.

"That is very naughty of her," Elizabeth said obviously displeased. "I sincerely hope her parents scold her over this."

David scoffed and rolled his eyes at his aunt's comment. Sam, however, was deeply grateful Sarah had never visited him in his bedroom, let alone his bed, and hoped it will remained that way.

Sam said good night to David and Elizabeth and he watched the mistress of Collinwood escort her nephew up the staircase. Vicki walked Sam out the front doors.

"Good night, Mr. Evans," Vicki said politely. "If you and Joe hear anything new about Maggie, you will let me know, won't you?"

"Of course, Vicki," Sam assured her. "You and Maggie were such good friends."

Sam dropped his heartbroken gaze down at that last comment. He hated to refer to his daughter in the past tense.

Vicki placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as he put his fedora hat back on.

"Well, good night, Vicki."

"Good night, Mr. Evans."

Sam went out the doors, and Vicki shut them behind him. Alone on the chilly front porch, Sam inhaled the cold salty breeze. Even though he uncovered further developments on Sarah, Sam was nonetheless very stressed. He didn't really know what the mystery of Sarah meant, and why he crossed paths with her. Furthermore, Maggie's continued disappearance was putting the artist in more despair. He was deeply tempted to go to the Blue Whale to have a drink.

Before he took a step off the porch, something halted him. A sweet mysterious scent suddenly massaged his nostrils. A very familiar scent.

Sam rubbed the rough contours on his tormented face. "Why do I keep smelling jasmine?" he murmured miserably.

* * *

As Willie set up the candles and the jasmine blossoms in the parlor, Barnabas descended down the staircase. He just visited his "bride" up in Josette's bedroom to better ensure her mind was not her own. She would be a very willing Josette.

Once the vampire reached the bottom landing, Barnabas strode to the entrance of the parlor, standing by the two pillars to observed his servant working.

The small voice of his sister echoed deeply in Barnabas' mind. _You can't marry Maggie... She is not Josette..._

As those words plagued him, Barnabas' mind wander back inside his coffin where the ever lovely Josette laid on top of him. The spirit of his lost love visiting his grave.

"Barnabas, why did you send 'em away?"

The sound of Willie's voice broke Barnabas out of his bittersweet reverie.

"What?"

"Why did you send 'em away?" Willie questioned as he positioned some jasmine blossoms on the peeling white wedding arch. "Your father and Josette, I mean. I get why you send your uncle away. He did tried to kill ya. But your father and Josette seem to really want to help ya."

"They want to imprison me, Willie," Barnabas said darkly. "They think they are acting merciful but that isn't so."

"Well, maybe you should give 'em a chance," Willie exclaimed. "Josette seems to really care for ya."

"Maggie Evans is Josette now," Barnabas said firmly. "And you are my servant, Willie. You best not forget where your loyalty lies or you will be terminated."

"I haven't forgot that," Willie insisted. "I just think your family really wants to help ya."

"They're all gone now," Barnabas said solemnly. "Even little Sarah."

Willie noted the obvious sadness in his master's voice, especially with that last comment.

_He hadn't got rid of me, Willie._

The servant loyally blocked out the intrusive feminine voice in his head.

Barnabas stared around the parlor, critically eyeing the lit candles and jasmine blossoms. He barely registered the arch.

"Bring Josette down here," the vampire ordered the servant. "I will like the ceremony to commence."

Willie nodded wordlessly, and left the parlor.

_Are you really going to marry your lady to your master?_

Once more, Willie blocked out the voice echoing deep in his mind. He quietly went up the staircase. The vampire venom burned in his veins, especially on his neck and wrist where his master marked him. But there was also a sickening revulsion growing in his stomach.

Inwardly, Willie didn't like what he was about to do. But Barnabas gave him an order, and if there was one thing Willie was good at it was following Barnabas' direct orders. The vampire venom was making sure of that for tonight.

Once he reached the upstairs hall, the sound of tingling music invaded the air. It came from Josette's bedroom. Willie lightly rapped on the double doors, and called, "Josette?"

He'd opened the unlocked doors and came upon the sight of Maggie dreamily twirling in circles with Josette's music box within her clutches. She wore a fresh white plain dress Willie found in one of the old trunks and picked it out for her to replaced the bloodstained wedding gown.

Willie morbidly thought she needed to look like a proper bride. A wedding gown with fresh stains of blood wouldn't do.

The long dress she had on was no wedding gown. It was a simple party dress, and lacked the beauty and grace of the flowing silk and lace. But this new dress was flowing and ghostly enough to pass as a wedding gown. Some purple jasmine blossoms were pinned on the side of the dress so it wouldn't look so plain. And she had on her veil. To Willie, her bridal transformation was completely satisfactory. He watched silently as she twirled about in her dress in the soft candle glow, humming along to the music box's melody with a glassy stare within her dark eyes.

"Josette," Willie said to her as she continued to twirl to the tingling music.

At the sound of his voice, Maggie paused with her back turned to him. She whirled around to find Willie had been in the bedroom with her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked of him with a look of hopeless confusion etching her face.

"It's time for you to get married," Willie informed her.

"Married?" Looking more confused, Maggie absentmindedly placed a hand on her bandaged bite marks on the side of her neck. "Married?" she uttered cluelessly. "Oh, Barnabas." She smiled warmly.

"Yes." Willie nodded. He felt sad that the vampire venom had a more spell bounding effect on her than it did on him. "He's waitin' for ya right downstairs. He really wants to marry ya."

"Who am I?" Maggie questioned Willie flatly in a soft voice.

"You're Josette," Willie told her.

With a frown etching her forehead, Maggie looked over her shoulder and gazed up at Josette's portrait above the marble fireplace mantel. Her eyes glimmer in recognition. "Josette." She smiled faintly at the portrait.

Willie gently came up to her and shut the lid of the music box. "Yes, ya hafta get ready."

"I'm marrying Barnabas?" She looked at him blankly.

"Yes."

With the shut music box in her left hand, Willie tenderly took her right hand and led her out of the bedroom. "Wait here," Willie told her once they'd reached the top landing of the staircase. The servant hurried his way down the stairs and found his master still waiting in the parlor.

"She's ready."

"Good." Barnabas smiled, immensely pleased. "Get to your position."

As Willie hurried over to stand under the arch in the parlor, Barnabas stepped into the foyer, and smiled up at his vampire bride on top of the staircase.

"All right, my dear," Barnabas longingly called up to her. "You may come down."

At his command, Maggie descended down the staircase. She opened up the lid of the music box, and its melody came pouring down the stairs. When Maggie reached her vampire groom, Barnabas chivalrously took her right hand and placed a soft kiss upon it. Unlike so many other times, Maggie did not recoil her hand away from his icy lips. Not this time. Barnabas smiled delightedly at her.

As Willie witness this in the parlor, he treacherously thought Barnabas looked too good for someone who got stabbed in the chest with a stake just a little over an hour ago, but at least he had to change into a different suit.

The servant felt further repulsed as the "happy couple" approached him at the arch with the music box still playing its tingling music in Maggie's left hand. The tingling of the melody was like ringing bells in Willie's ears. He tried desperately not to wince from the grating sound.

"You may begin," Barnabas told his servant.

He lovingly caress Maggie's right hand with long cold fingers. His black onyx ring tenderly smoothed against her soft pale skin.

Willie heaved a hesitant sigh. He'd never even been to a wedding before, let alone know how to conduct a wedding ceremony. Swallowing nervously, Willie decided to say what he vaguely knew what is said in weddings.

"D'you Barnabas, take this... lady... to be your wife?"

"I do," Barnabas replied with a pleased nod.

Willie slide his reluctant gaze at Maggie. She gave him a very glazed look, but looked the part of an enchanting bride. The music box melody was still a serious irritant to the servant.

"D'you..." Willie's words were cut off by a sudden rapping emerging from the front doors in the foyer.

Barnabas was slightly startled, but quickly regained his composure. "Go to the windows to see who it is," the vampire ordered his servant. He shut the lid of Josette's music box from Maggie's grasp. "Don't let yourself be seen," he warned Willie.

Willie quietly creeped up to the window, trying his best to hide himself behind the draperies. He frantically gasped.

"It's Mr. Evans..." Willie spluttered alarmed.

Maggie blinked at the name Evans. Her eyes glimmer in familiarity. But Barnabas was too distracted to take notice.

"What's he doin' here?" Willie stammered to Barnabas as he stepped away from the window. "Are ya expectin' him?"

"No," said Barnabas calmly. "Take Josette upstairs. I will handle him."

Willie gently took Maggie's hand, and quietly took her up the staircase. Maggie looked over her shoulder as she went up the stairs, trying to comprehend the name Evans. Once Willie and Maggie were out of sight upstairs, Barnabas strolled to the front double doors in the foyer and flung them wide opened.

"Well, good evening, Mr. Evans," Barnabas greeted politely.

"Good evening, Mr. Collins," Sam muttered. "Is Willie Loomis around by any chance?"

"Why, no," Barnabas stated falsely. "I've sent him off to perform some errands at Clearwater."

Upstairs in Josette's bedroom, Willie tried to listened to this exchange through the bedroom doors. The shut silent music box sat on the elegant vanity as Maggie paced about murmuring to herself. "Evans, Evans... I know that name."

"Be quiet," Willie whispered at her from the doors.

He became haunted by the incident of Sam and Joe disrupting Barnabas and "Josette's" dinner. He didn't want Barnabas to punish Maggie for making too much noise again. She desperately needed to be quiet this time. Willie deeply feared Barnabas would really kill her.

Downstairs, Sam was slightly disappointed by Willie's apparent absence.

"That's too bad," he muttered. "He was over at my cottage earlier giving his condolences over Maggie."

"Did he now?" Barnabas raised a stiff brow.

He hadn't forgotten his servant's unexpected visit to the Evans cottage. But what really transpired between his servant and Sam Evans?

"Yeah, I want to ask him something," said Sam.

"What would you like to ask him?" queried Barnabas. "I'll be more than willing to pass your message along to him."

"No, it's admittedly... silly." Sam scoffed sheepishly. "Nonsensical in fact."

Barnabas lifted a demur brow. Sam suddenly lifted his nose in the chilly moist air.

"Mr. Collins, do you smell that?"

"Smell what?" Barnabas frowned.

"That smell," said Sam insistently. "The smell of jasmine. It's the same exact smell that came to my cottage after Willie's visit."

Up in Josette's bedroom, the ever haunted scent of jasmine tickled Willie and Maggie's senses. The two gasped when a bright white light lit up Josette's portrait above the fireplace mantel. An unmistakable feminine presence let herself be known in the room, causing the hearts of the servant and the captive to pound wildly.

Back at the front doors down in the foyer, Sam gave Barnabas a pleading look.

"Don't you smell it?"

"I'm afraid not." Barnabas cast him a pitying look.

"How could you not?" Sam said bewildered. "The smell is very potent. It's coming from your house."

"Mr. Evans I can regretfully assure you I detect no such aroma," said Barnabas. "It's highly possible your grief is getting to you. You just said yourself you smelt this scent at your cottage. It could be merely your grief clinging to you."

"I suppose." Sam released a defeated sigh. "But are you sure you can't smell it?"

"I am greatly certain," said Barnabas smoothly. "Is there a message you like for me to relay to Willie?"

"No." Sam shook his head.

"I am sincerely sorry for all of your pain and sorrow," Barnabas lied to the artist.

"Yeah..." Sam released another defeated sigh as he balanced on his heels awkwardly. His eyes were lost and hopeless.

"Good night, Mr. Evans," said Barnabas. "I hope you will receive good news about your daughter."

"Yeah." Sam sighed again. "Good night, Mr. Collins."

With a curt nod, Barnabas shut the doors on the artist. He shifted his dark chilling glare up the staircase.

"Willie," he hissed silently.

He collected his wolf-head cane off his coat rack, and creeped his way up the staircase.

* * *

Sam stood on the dark withering porch, rubbing his furry chin, still at a loss. The sweet exotic perfume still haunted his senses.

"How can he not smell it?" he wondered aloud. "It's a very strong scent."

A small creak crept up behind Sam, causing him to turned right around. One of the front doors opened a crack. Assuming the chilly breeze blew it open, Sam courteously decided to shut it, but the strong smell of jasmine billowed out of the dreary Old House, causing him to pause.

Instead of shutting the door, Sam instead further creaked it open.

With Barnabas not around, Sam decided to follow the scent into the old manor hoping to find the true source of where it was coming from.

* * *

Up in Josette's bedroom, Maggie was hypnotically spellbound by the white light engulfing the portrait above the marble fireplace mantel. The white light harmoniously shimmer with the soft candle glow throughout the bedroom.

Maggie drew herself up to the fireplace and raised her slender hand to touch the mysterious light on the portrait. Her hypnotic gaze became abruptly interrupted.

Barnabas barged his way through the bedroom doors, his trusty cane in hand. The vampire shot an alarming glare at his servant.

Maggie turned away from the portrait startled. The white light in the painting instantly diminished by the harsh arrival of the master of the Old House.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Barnabas stated to Willie at the bedroom's opened entrance. "What transpired at the Evans cottage?"

Willie panicked his way backwards to the canopy bed, and stumbled on top of the silk covered mattress. "I-I dunno w-what ya mean," Willie stammered, his eyes completely horror struck.

"Willie, we both know you went to the Evans cottage," Barnabas shot at him from the entrance.

"Evans," Maggie murmured softly to herself again. "Cottage." Those words felt awfully familiar to her.

"Don't deny it, Willie," Barnabas warned from the entrance. "We both know you were at the cottage. What did you say to have him so curious as to come over here?"

_Cottage..._

A vivid image of a living room cluttered in paintings with a wide bay window welcoming in sunshine barged itself into Maggie's foggy memory. The place was incredibly familiar.

"Did Josette make you give Sam Evans your condolences?" Barnabas demanded of Willie.

"I dunno how I really got there," Willie whimpered from the bed. "I was in a daze."

"That's because Josette wanted you to betray me," Barnabas spat fiercely. "And something tells me you were on her side."

Willie became petrified. Had his master found out he pleaded to Josette for help?

"Well?!" Barnabas spat impatiently.

"I didn't betray ya, Barnabas," Willie lied with a desperate pleading look. "I swear it!"

Maggie became frightened by the deadly look the vampire threw at his servant.

* * *

Down in the silent candle lit foyer, Sam came upon the sight of the jasmines and the wedding arch in the parlor. Sam was taken aback by this, but the jasmine perfume didn't lead into this room.

He followed the scent to a metal door that obviously led down into the basement. Sam felt completely foolish doing this. He debated whether or not if he should turn right back around and head to the Blue Whale.

A click from the door surprised Sam, and it creaked itself wide open.

"Barnabas needs to have Willie do something about these constantly opening doors," Sam muttered to himself. "Why do they open themselves at peculiar moments?" he wondered, characteristically rubbing his furry chin.

His curiosity winning out, Sam reluctantly decided to carefully tread his way down the dark murky steps. He spotted candle glow creeping up the stairs, followed by a burning torch perch in its holder on the cobwebbed stone walls by the stairs. That was a very odd thing to hang up on a wall as far as Sam was concerned, even in a dark disconcerting basement such as this. What more, that arch in the parlor was especially odd.

Once he was able to fully glimpse down into the whole basement, Sam came upon even more unsettling and questionable decorations.

Two coffins laid side-by-side in the candle glow in the dungeon. A look of horror and disgust clouded Sam's eyes.

"My God!" he gasped.

* * *

"Barnabas, I swear to you, I didn't betray ya," Willie said breathlessly on Josette's bed.

Barnabas loomed into the bedroom as Maggie watched by the fireplace chilled to the core. Barnabas slowly stepped up to the canopy bed and raised his cane slightly over his servant.

"I didn't let Josette..." Willie paused. He stared up petrified, his words cut off as the dark form of Barnabas drew himself upon him with a murderous light shining in his inhuman eyes.

"Why did you make Josette go away?" Maggie uttered suddenly from her spot by the fireplace. She cast her vampire captor a questioning look. Barnabas gaped at her from his spot by the bed.

"You and Josette love each other," Maggie murmured with great certainty. "But you made her go away. Why?" She tilted her head delicately to the side.

Barnabas' eyes widened over her words. His mind was struck completely dumb. He shifted his dark gaze back to the cowering Willie lying stiffly frozen on the canopy bed. Instead of striking his servant with his cane, Barnabas instead roughly grabbed his shirt collar, and hauled him out of the bedroom.

Shocked, Maggie followed them out into the hallway.

Barnabas threw Willie down the rickety staircase, and the servant came crashing gracelessly down into the foyer. Maggie gasped horrified, hovering over the upstairs banister. Barnabas descended his way down the staircase and once more hovered threateningly over his submissive servant. Timidly, Willie gazed up at his master.

"You'd rather be beholden to Josette," the vampire snarled.

"I didn't betray ya!" Willie repeated for the up-teenth time, shouting this time. "Dontcha remember Barnabas, ya stopped me!"

"Yes, but you really wanted to betray me," Barnabas accused him coldly, lifting his cane.

"No!" Maggie cried.

She came rushing down and stood on the last step on the staircase. Her eyes were horrified and frightened at what her captor was about to do.

"Go on up, Josette," Barnabas ordered over his shoulder. "My servant has forgotten where his loyalty lies. I need to greatly remind him where his loyalty should be."

Just then, Sam emerged from the basement door. His eyes widened on what he came upon. Barnabas looming threateningly over Willie's battered form on the floor, and nearby a young girl stood shakily by. A girl he spent countless days and hours searching for.

"Maggie!"

At his cry, the three shot their gaze in the artist's direction. The sight of the grizzled older man was faintly familiar to Maggie. In her foggy mind, a familiar figure tried to burst through the thickness clogging her memory. The figure tread his way through gradually till he finally reached Maggie's vision. The man's face broke much of the spell Barnabas put her under.

"Pop!" Maggie cried, tears streaming down her thick lashes.

"Maggie!" Sam choked, shedding some fresh tears himself.

Barnabas, however, was obviously livid over the artist's presence.

"I thought you have left here, Mr. Evans." Barnabas looked at him darkly. "You really should have left here."

The vampire slowly advanced on Sam, his cane still tightly in his grasp. Creeping up to the artist, Barnabas swiftly struck him on the head with his weapon, knocking off his fedora hat, and sending him down painfully to the floor, barely unconscious.

Her heart pounding madly, Maggie unthinkingly flung herself at her tormentor, causing the two to scuffle into the parlor. Barnabas tried to strike Maggie with his cane, but Maggie grabbed hold of it tightly. The two struggle roughly with the cane between them. Their tight pushing and shoving ultimately caused the cane to split in two.

Rage darkening his eyes even further, Barnabas tossed his shattered beloved item aside, and clamped his hands tightly around Maggie's throat.

Gasping hopelessly, Maggie slowly fell to the floor with Barnabas hovering on top of her, his hands still harshly cutting off her air. Choking violently, her face turning blue, Maggie feebly struggled to get Barnabas off of her. The next thing she knew, Willie shoved his master off of her, and the two wrestled all over the floor.

Willie climbed on top of his master, and raised the top splintered end of the cane with the striking silver wolf-head handle still attached. He instinctively snatched it into his grip as he scuffled with Barnabas on the floor. The servant shoved the splintered pointy end of the cane deep into his master's chest.

Barnabas' eyes bulged in shock and deep surprised. His expression clearly read he was stunned that his cowardly servant actually staked him.

"Willie!" Lifting herself on her elbows from the floor, Maggie cleared her choked throat, and looked at Willie with such awe and wonder.

But Willie's eyes bore down deep into Barnabas' shocked ones. The eyes that terrified Willie for so long now gazed up at him with crushing vulnerability.

Maggie eagerly crawled up to them and placed her own hands over Willie's on the cane's wolf-head handle.

"I'm sorry, Barnabas." Maggie cleared her bruised throat. "I just don't think our marriage could possibly work."

Maggie further shoved the splintered cane deep into her monstrous captor's bleeding chest, sending it clear through to the floor drench in his blood. His grunts of pain and anguish made Maggie very pleased.

Despite this painful impalement, however, Barnabas was still alive. He glared up at the servant and the captive with wretched resentment.

"You two imbeciles keep missing the heart!" Barnabas snapped up at them.

Before Willie and Maggie could fully react to this, a wild cackling splice into the air. An Icy wicked laughter belonging to a woman.

_"Do you honestly think you can so easily escape my curse by forging your own death, Barnabas?"_

A transparent disembodied head materialized up by Barnabas' portrait above the mantel. Willie and Maggie screamed in terror at the bizarre sight, as well as Sam who was shaken and disoriented by his own ordeal. He observed this from the parlor's entrance with his fedora hat hiding a nasty bump on his head.

The phantom head was of a woman with tremendous beauty, with golden hair, and round blue eyes gleaming with devious mischief. She continued to cackle wildly, gazing down on Barnabas' bloody wounded form with his broken cane impaled within him.

Willie and Maggie instinctively sensed something overwhelmingly evil about this woman.

An utter hopelessness creased in Barnabas' dark eyes. "Angelique," he whispered resentfully.

Willie and Maggie looked at each other sitting on their knees on the floor beside the wounded Barnabas. They didn't know this Angelique, let alone heard of her. Barnabas had never mentioned her to Willie.

"_I vow to never let anyone love you, Barnabas,"_ Angelique's head laughed with delighted cruelty. _"Anyone but me. You are_ _a fool for thinking you can re-create love by destroying this girl! And you are an even greater fool for thinking __I will allow anyone to destroy you."_

She cackled sadistically over the shame and humiliation washing over Barnabas' face. As her unnerving wild laughter echoed prominently throughout the walls of the Old House, all the flames from the numerous candles got blown out as if being struck from a light breeze. Darkness and the pale moonlight cloaked the entire inside of the manor.

Another powerful presence was making itself known. A presence that had been there the whole time.

_"The curse is now contained, Angelique!"_ Josette's disembodied voice declared, resounding frighteningly throughout the old manor. _"Barnabas is_ _a prisoner once more, and this house now belongs to me!"_

A seething spark flashed across Angelique's cold blue eyes. _"Are you still not resting in your grave, Josette?"_ she spat. _"You still haunt around in forgotten pathetic memory?"_

"_I have never rest, Angelique!"_ Josette's voice retorted thunderously, alarming Willie, Maggie, and Sam shakily. _"The family curse never allow me to rest! But_ _I now reclaim this house, and_ _I cast you to depart!"_

Sparks of anger engulfed Angelique's transparent disembodied face. _"This is not over, Josette,"_ Angelique vowed heatedly. _"It will never be over for me and Barnabas."_

_"You're hopeless delusions do not apply here!"_ Josette's voice screamed. _"This house, that man, and his heart belong to me and they always will! You are not the only one with powers, witch! **Get out!"**_

With that, Angelique's livid face retreated faintly with her screams of rage shaking the walls. It chilled the spines of Willie, Maggie, and Sam icily, and she was gone.

Through the moonlight, Barnabas' portrait was also fading above the mantel. Josette's portrait materialized over it, and right then, her portrait replaced his. It left a permanent mark. A mark that the Old House's mistress had reclaimed her domain, and whatever supernatural influence Barnabas had over it was now diminished.

The splintered cane was removed out of Barnabas' bleeding chest, as if someone invisible was prying it out of him.

"Josette," the vampire faintly whispered.

He was then carried off into the air and floated out of the parlor, trying weakly to struggle against it. They'd passed by the bleary-eyed Sam.

Willie clumsily stumbled to his feet and raced after his master out of the room. The invisible presence of Josette carried the struggling vampire through the opened basement door. Barnabas grabbed hold of the doorframe, but he was pulled roughly through to be carried down the dark basement steps. The metal door firmly shut behind them, thus locking Willie out. The servant banged on the door, his mind completely numb. It was very impulsive and sudden on how he staked Barnabas. He did that without thinking. All he knew was he couldn't let his master kill Maggie, especially with her father around.

Willie heard the unmistakable sounds of a coffin's lid shutting close, and the dangling of what Willie was certain was chains.

"Barnabas!" Willie tried turning the knob, but it wouldn't budge. "Barnabas!"

Willie banged on the metal door again, while Sam rushed into the parlor to help his daughter get back to her feet.

Gawking at his daughter's white dress and wedding veil, and the puddle of blood on the floor, Sam demanded, "Honey, what in the Sam-hill is up with this place?!"

"I don't know where to begin in answering that question, pop." Maggie gave him a very tired look.

The artist chuckled and warmly and joyously wrapped his arms around his daughter's slender frame. Maggie eagerly returned his embrace, shedding fresh tears of joy on his shoulder. She delightedly noted his breath didn't reek of alcohol, and he was actually holding her in his arms. Maggie desperately hoped this wasn't a dream. She did nothing but dreamed of this moment.

A cold spiky chill reached down her spine. Maggie sense other presences in the house, the presence of Sarah, Joshua Collins, and some others Maggie didn't recognized.

Sam released Maggie from his tender warm hold and took her hand. "Come on, honey, let me take you home."

Tears still streaming down her face, Maggie smiled, and uttered, "Yes, I'm ready to go home."

Stepping through the invisible phantoms in the moonlight, Sam and Maggie entered the foyer where the front doors flung themselves wide opened for them to depart. Maggie halted her father in their tracks, and looked over her shoulder.

Willie was still at a loss at the basement metal door.

"Willie!" Maggie called. "Come on, we're leaving this creepy place."

_Go to her, Willie,_ Josette's voice crept inside his mind. _Barnabas is back to being imprisoned in his coffin, and Maggie is no longer his prisoner._ _I'm going to guard him until his curse is lifted._

"But I think he needs me," Willie whispered. "I can help out in that."

_I_ _reclaim this house as my own. Barnabas is no longer its master. Your services as his servant is no longer required. I'll take care of Barnabas. You go be with your love._

Willie shifted his gaze to Maggie, who looked at him invitingly in her white dress and wedding veil. At her eager come-with-me look, Willie came up to her side. Together, the three went through the opened front doors. At their exit, the doors slammed themselves violently shut.

The tingling melody of Josette's music box floated bleakly in the air, vibrating throughout the walls. Josette's vibrant jasmine fragrance also haunted the air. With her portrait firmly perch above the fireplace mantel where it belonged, the Old House's mistress had made the haunted house hers again.

* * *

**Conclusion in Final Chapter: Lost Boys and Golden Girls**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is** **a Dan Curtis Production and not mine**

* * *

CHAPTER 10: LOST BOYS AND GOLDEN GIRLS

The past three months had been a wild whirlwind for Willie. So much so Willie wondered if life would ever stopped spinning out of control. Since Josette released him and Maggie from their mental bindings from the Old House, Willie and Maggie agreed to not reveal the Collins family's most terrible secret to the public, especially to the Collinses themselves.

Willie and Maggie had no choice but to accept the fact that Barnabas just couldn't be destroyed due to a devastating family curse. Evidently, the floating head Angelique was responsible for Barnabas' downfall due to her own love for him. Willie and Maggie had never heard of the story of Barnabas and Angelique, but they were deeply uncertain if they even want to know.

All they knew was Barnabas and Josette deeply loved each other long ago, but a curse drove them apart. Their love and their curse brought Willie and Maggie torment and despair.

Since Josette released them from Barnabas' imprisonment, it seemed considerate to keep the ghost lady's secret for her. But convincing Sam of this was a completely different matter. Sam strongly felt all of Collinsport needed to know the truth of what his daughter went through, even though what she went through was too unbelievably fantastical for most people to comprehend. It was with that Maggie finally convinced her father to publicly withhold the truth from the town.

She'd even persuaded him to withhold this from Joe. Maggie figured the less people who knew about this the better. But that didn't help her relationship with Joe.

Her massive secrecy, coupled with her being withdrawn with him due to her ordeal, and her sudden closeness with Willie ultimately drifted the couple apart.

The truth of the matter was Maggie became a completely different person in her months of being imprisoned by Barnabas. She was no longer the same girl Joe knew. The simple things she thought she wanted in life no longer resonated with her. Plus, Joe was both jealous and perplexed by her sudden friendship with Willie.

In regards to her rescue, Maggie, Willie, and Sam concocted a story of how Willie found Maggie tied up in a shack in the woods. Willie wandered the woods and encountered Sam on the grounds of Collinwood when he was visiting the Collinses that night. Willie alerted the artist of his daughter's whereabouts, and the two came to her rescue.

Maggie made up two thugs who held her captive, and proclaimed they must've quickly fled town. Maggie felt incredibly shallow and empty for lying to Sheriff Patterson. But the truth must never be told.

In regards to Maggie's actual abductor, Willie told the Collins family that Barnabas decided to returned back to England. The family accepted that, but were puzzled by his abrupt departure, and by doing so, did that without a bade farewell.

Now he was kicked out of the Old House, Willie was also kicked out of the Collinwood estate. He was homeless and had no place to go. Maggie took him under her wing, and forcibly convinced Sam to let the former vampire slave stay in a spare bedroom at the cottage. That was one of the events that brought Maggie's vulnerable relationship with Joe to a head.

In addition to that, Willie's shattered relationship with Jason McGuire further hit the skids. Predictably, Jason's blackmailing money scam on Elizabeth Collins Stoddard dramatically backfired. Apparently, Jason was extremely close in marrying her for her money, but something happened, and Sheriff Patterson gave the scrupulous Irish con man twenty-four hours to pack up and leave town. Jason tried to forced Willie to steal some of the jewels he knew for a fact Barnabas Collins possessed. But Willie knew the ghost of Josette would not permit him to return to the Old House. Willie told Jason that Barnabas took all of his valuables when he left for England, and Jason had no choice but to accept this false claim.

Even though he refused to leave town with him, Willie did accept Jason's invitation for a goodbye drink at the Blue Whale. The two fondly reminisce over old times, but it was obvious Willie had drastically changed as a person in comparison to Jason since they fatefully arrived at this small insignificant fishing village.

Willie was no longer a street punk, and Jason was no longer the levelheaded man he once was. He became drunk on greed, and acting bitingly bitter and irrational. After Jason departed from Collinsport, Willie couldn't help but fear his former friend would eventually wind up dead if he didn't get his act together. But the two hadn't been on the same wave-length for quite some time. Willie never knew the full extent of how Jason was blackmailing Mrs. Stoddard, and in turn, Jason never knew Willie was actually Barnabas Collins' slave and was forced to participate in the kidnapping of Maggie.

Friendships imploded over the most anal of things.

Since being released from the Old House, other sections in Willie and Maggie's life also went through changes. They'd both received physical examinations from Dr. Woodard, who checked out their bite marks and various cuts and bruises. Since the doctor suspected supernatural foul play involved in Maggie's abduction, Sam told Dr. Woodard the truth and swore him into secrecy.

But it wasn't really the physical scars that haunted Willie and Maggie, the psychological ones ran pretty deep. Dr. Woodard insisted the two arranged to have secret therapy sessions with Dr. Julia Hoffman, a psychologist from Windcliff, which was a mental asylum a hundred miles outside Collinsport.

Both Willie and Maggie were dubious about opening themselves up to this head doctor. (As Willie sometimes referred to her.) Dr. Hoffman seemed to be an intelligent woman, but how could she possibly sympathized and relate to the depraved mind games Barnabas subjected Maggie to, or the countless bodies Barnabas forced Willie to disposed of? Not to mention all the torture and other abuse.

Furthermore, both Willie and Maggie were a little wary of Dr. Hoffman's obvious interest in Barnabas. The woman doctor knew he was a vampire, but Willie and Maggie constantly tried to persuade her Barnabas was gone. Dr. Hoffman agreed to conceal the secret of Barnabas, but Willie couldn't help but fear the eminent doctor had some ulterior motive. What, he didn't know, but he couldn't help but wonder if she was up to something.

Even though Willie and Maggie left the Old House, the ghosts didn't leave them. Well some of them at least. Sarah visited Maggie from time to time, talking about David, wanting to play, and even leaving her little doll every once in a while in the hope it would cheer Maggie up.

On the day he moved into the Evans cottage, Willie encountered a strange man in his new bedroom. A man he never met before. He was portly with short brown hair, and wore trousers, heavy boots, and draped in a heavy coat in the color of mud. He was a man from a long ago era. He placed Willie's belongings on the bed, the things Willie had to leave behind when Josette released him from the Old House, which wasn't much.

_"I've beggin' ya pardon, sir,"_ the man said timidly when Willie walked in on him. _"Miss Josette ordered me ta deliver ya belongins'."_

Willie blinked. If Josette sent this man, then surely he must've been a ghost. Willie confirmed his presumption when the man suddenly vanished in that all familiar chill. Willie didn't know who the man was, but he had an inkling the man used to be a Collins servant. If so, Willie wondered what that man went through as a Collins servant when he was alive.

Once Willie and Maggie settled into the cottage with Sam, they'd wasted no time in putting themselves back in working order. Maggie got her old waitressing job back at the Collinsport Inn, and managed to put in a good word to her boss, Mr. Wells, to hire Willie as a maintenance man. She reasoned that Willie should put his handyman skills to good use. Willie had no objections to this, especially since he was actually receiving payment for his labor. (And not getting smacked by canes.)

But he was conflicted still on several things. Since he was responsible for releasing Barnabas from his coffin, Willie felt incredibly guilty for Maggie's kidnapping. He confessed to her how he released Barnabas that night at the Collins Mausoleum, and how he was driven by greed and lust over jewels.

Willie was willing to give Maggie an out on whatever relationship they had developed, especially since her father and most of her friends constantly looked at them crossed-eyed whenever they were seen in public together. Plus, Maggie still have the very willing Joe Haskell waiting in the wings to offer her a much simpler and less complicated life.

Maggie was a little displeased but not at all surprised by Willie's involvement in Barnabas' arrival. (Though she kept this from Sam.) Maggie knew the kind of man Willie was when he came to town. But ironically, Barnabas transformed Willie into the complete opposite man he once was. Maggie couldn't forget all Willie did for her to keep her alive. Especially that night when Willie boldly declared to Barnabas, "If ya kill her, ya hafta kill me too!" Despite Willie's involvement in bringing Barnabas into Maggie's life, any of his wrongdoing suddenly became irrelevant.

But that wasn't the only thing troubling Willie. The vampire venom still toxically swam in his veins, and he could still hear his master's heartbeat thumping in his head. However, the surreal unnatural beating was more fainter than it used to be. At times Willie could actually feel Barnabas' dark and claustrophobic confinement. He felt it was this connection that was mainly keeping him in Collinsport.

Willie didn't really want to tread too far away from Barnabas, partly out of loyalty, but also because he needed to make sure Maggie would be safe from him. And other innocence in Collinsport for that matter, though Willie's help would be drastically limited. No matter how good intentioned Dr. Woodard and Dr. Hoffman seemed, Willie could never forget the dead glassy stares of the unfortunate victims burning right through him whenever Barnabas ordered to disposed them. In spite of everything, Willie was still beholden to Barnabas to some degree.

God help him.

After spending the day fixing toilets and repairing a water heater at the Inn, Willie took off in his jalopy of a truck to leave Maggie alone with her father. Sam mentioned something about a dinner, so Willie decided to let them enjoyed that for themselves.

By that time, Sam slowly began to accept Willie being a part of Maggie's life, but as far as Willie was concerned, Sam Evans needn't worry of the prospect of Willie Loomis becoming his son-in-law. True, Willie's relationship with Maggie could still go either way, but for now Maggie merely viewed him as a friend, and it wasn't quite the same as how he viewed her. And since Maggie was still recovering from being Barnabas' ideal bride, she wasn't exactly thinking about romantic relationships at the moment. Willie respected that. But still, Willie deeply wondered why Josette could possibly think Maggie was his "love."

After having a burger for dinner, and heading over to the Blue Whale for a beer, Willie enjoyed some quiet solitude.

Solitude, a word Willie never heard of until he met Barnabas.

Around six-forty-five in the evening, Willie returned back to the Evans cottage. Instead of using his own key to allow himself in, Willie instead headed for the backyard and let the cool breeze caress his rough features. The deepening pink and orange sky through the clouds, coupled by the gentle sounds from the sea, slightly eased Willie's lurid memories.

Some twenty minutes past, and the French doors leading into Maggie's bedroom flung open. Maggie stood between them with a bouquet of white jasmines within her clutches. With her sudden appearance, her and Willie's eyes locked.

"Hi," Willie said to her simply. "You and your pop enjoyed dinner?"

"Yes," Maggie answered him.

"Where didja get that?" Willie eyed the jasmines in her hands. "Got an admirer?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you... can drive me someplace?" Maggie said evasively. "If that's all right?"

"Sure." Willie shrugged.

Once they'd got inside Willie's truck, Maggie told him where she wanted him to take her.

Once they'd arrived, the two stroll silently on the sandy rocky beach, with the waves crashing gently on the shores with squawking seagulls flocking over the waves. Up ahead stood Widows Hill cloaked in a thick mist from the sea. The early night sky began to cap with some faint stars through the clouds, with the outline of the brilliant sphere of the gray moon peering from the heavens.

Willie and Maggie left footprints on the rough rocky shores as they trudged forward to Widows Hill. The soft salty breeze gently billowed their hair and clothing. They'd encountered some small boulders by the infamous bleak cliff. Finding the boulders were reasonably smooth and not jagged, the two sat down. Maggie still clutched the bouquet of jasmines and laid them on her lap.

After watching the waves quietly, Maggie broke the silence.

"Thank you for taking me here, Willie," she murmured. "I want to pay my respects to Josette for helping me, but I'm not really up to visiting her grave. You probably think that is crazy."

"No," Willie assured her.

He agreed with the notion of refusing to step foot into Eagle Hill Cemetery. Willie did not have the fondness of memories of that place. Neither did Maggie. So the other alternative was to visit the spot where Josette famously ended her life.

Willie could almost picture what that fateful night must've been like, with Barnabas chasing after her, Josette rebuffing him in terror over his monstrosity, and plunging down into the sharp rocks below. Willie could almost hear the screams of desperation chilling the air.

"I admittedly had my doubts about Josette from time to time," said Maggie. "But she did come through for us at the end."

"I still can't believe she locked him back into his coffin," Willie muttered with a haunted look veiling his gray eyes.

It was a look Maggie had grown accustomed to intimately well. They were both still haunted by nightmares of their tormentor.

"I'm thankful you went to her to help me," Maggie told him affectionately. "I owe you one."

"Oh, it was nothin'." Willie shrugged.

"Even though she and her husband took our bodies out for a spin like we were a couple of sports cars, she did eventually let us out of that spooky joint," Maggie said lightly.

Willie chuckled at her wisecrack. He liked that Maggie still maintained some of her spirited brassy personality from when he first met her. Before Barnabas violently changed everything for them.

"Josette really loved him," Maggie uttered, "and even loves him still. But this curse ruined everything for them."

"It seems Barnabas tangled with some crazy blonde," Willie said thoughtfully. "And I thought I met some crazy chicks in my time."

"Willie," Maggie said somewhat hesitantly, "in spite of everything that has happened, do you think somehow Barnabas and Josette can find their way... back to each other?"

At his baffled look, Maggie awkwardly clarified. "I mean... do you think they can get rid of this curse?"

That was a deeply profound query for Willie. But he was deeply certain of one thing.

"If there's one thing I know 'bout Barnabas is that he loves Josette. He always will."

"Yeah," Maggie concurred in a soft sigh. "But I must say I'm really quite jealous of you."

Willie blinked at her puzzled.

"You got to see Josette and I didn't," said Maggie. "I only felt her presence and smell her perfume and listened to her voice yelling at that ghost head woman, but I never saw her. The only image I saw of her was from a fainting portrait. I was dragged into this, Willie, because I look like her. But I never really saw it for myself."

"She helped ya, Maggie," said Willie. "That's all that matters."

A tingling sound cut through the breeze. A tingling sound of a melody. A melody Maggie knew all too well.

"It seems I'll never escape that tune," she muttered.

But from a distance by the cliff, Maggie and Willie spotted a wispy form twirling to Josette's melody. A figure who was transparent and hard to see clearly through the mist. But with the grace and all familiar flowing white gown and fragrance, Maggie instantly knew who this figure was.

"Josette," she whispered as her music sweetly intensified in the cool night salty air.

"This was how I first saw her," Willie told Maggie.

The two watched utterly speechless as the radiant spirit effortlessly pirouette by and against some sharp rocks, and madly spin about as the chilly breeze carried her up into the night sky. She elegantly faded away by the light of the gray moon. But her music still cling stubbornly against the breeze, making Widows Hill eerie, but somehow less gloomy and depressing.

Willie and Maggie smiled faintly, and Maggie stood up. She slowly tread through the rocks and came up to the waves. She unwrapped the bouquet from its wrappings and placed the jasmines on the shore. She watched the jasmines washed away by the sea.

"Thank you, Josette, for helping me," Maggie gently murmured.

Upon watching Maggie paying her respects to Josette's watery grave, Willie came up to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Just then he realized she'd did what she needed to do. And for him to do as well.

"C'mon, let's go to Bangor," he said.

Maggie gaped at him surprised. "What?"

"We didn't really took the time to have some fun since we got outta that house together, Maggie," Willie told her gently. "I think we should learn to do that now that we gotta chance."

"But it's late, and pop is waiting for us," protested Maggie.

"Let him wait," said Willie. "I really wanna have fun with you tonight."

Maggie silently considered his words, with his urging look filled with anticipation on what sort of fun evening could possibly await them.

"Well, all right. But you are doing all the paying for whatever it is we are going to do."

Willie tenderly took her hand in his and the two trudged their way back up the beach. The music box's melody floated and danced all around them.

Willie didn't know what the future would bring, or what his relationship with Maggie would eventually morph into, but he reveled that no matter what he and Maggie would experience it together.

* * *

"I know you're here, Josette."

Since taking over the Old House, things had been in working order. The desolate ancestral home belonged to the phantoms again, just as it should be. Little David Collins was now allowed to play with Josette and Sarah in their home without facing some precarious risks. They just had to keep the boy out of the forbidden basement. With the ever militant Joshua Collins constantly guarding the cellar door, it wouldn't be that hard to steer the boy clear away.

Poor Barnabas was safe and secure in his coffin, but he was in total despair for being an unwilling prisoner once again. Josette sincerely wished she could do so much more for him, but this was the best she could do. There was no other alternative until Barnabas' curse was somehow lifted.

Josette and so many of the deceased Collins ancestors just had to keep constant vigilance to guard the coffin this time. All but Jeremiah Collins.

Since his duel with Barnabas, Jeremiah seemed to take his nephew's banishment to heart. Jeremiah had no desire to return to haunt the grounds of Collinwood. He wanted to rest in peace. He always had. Given the bad blood between uncle and nephew, Josette knew it was better this way. She wished she could rest along with her husband, but the predicament of her true love forbade her to do so.

But on the bright side, the future between Willie Loomis and Maggie Evans felt both encouraging and promising. Josette felt something tremendously good happened in the midst of all the chaos Barnabas inflicted.

After gracing the couple with her presence on the beach, Josette sensed an intruder trying to barged into the grounds of the Old House. An intruder who was calling out to her by name.

Now that Jeremiah was at rest, Josette summoned the spirit of Ben Stokes to give her assistance when needed. At that moment, Ben was trying his best to ward the intruder away.

Through the thickness of the dark trees of the forest, Josette sensed a presence of a strong-willed determined woman.

Since banishing Angelique from her domain, Josette feared the witch would somehow return, and when she did, she would take on a more powerful form than a floating head. She would plainly create trouble for them all. But it wasn't Angelique who Josette was sensing. It was someone else. Someone Josette was uncertain of.

"I wish to see you, Josette."

Josette materialized through the columns of the withered porch of the Old House. She found a woman waiting patiently by the firmly shut front double doors in the nighttime darkness. A tall thin older woman with short red hair, and a no-nonsense expression masking her face. She wore a long green coat covering her blouse, and a long black skirt with matching heels. She carried what appeared to be a medical bag closely by her side.

The woman placed a much satisfied smirk across her lips. "It is a great honor to properly meet you Josette Collins."

The ancient walls of the Old House were cautiously on guard over this woman's questionable presence. Josette looked at her warily.

"There is no need to be wary of me," the woman insisted, as if she could read the ghost's mind. "I am here to help you."

_"Help me?"_ Josette uttered dubiously, tilting her head slightly.

"You are the legendary Josette Collins, correct?" pressed the woman.

Josette didn't answer her. She looked at her haughtily.

"You are storing a man in there." The woman indicated the doors of the Old House. "A man among the living dead."

"_I don't know who you think you are..."_ Josette snipped, lifting her nose at the unwanted woman.

"Dr. Julia Hoffman," the woman cut the ghost off to introduce herself.

Josette paused. "Doctor?" She arched up a questioning eyebrow.

"That's right." Julia eagerly nodded.

"_A woman doctor..."_ Josette stammered. _"Isn't it rather fanciful?"_

"The world gradually evolved into a much more fanciful place since your untimely demise," said Julia with a look that plainly read _I'm-getting-this-from-a-French-Victorian-ghost?_ "I wish to see Barnabas Collins."

_"You shall leave here at once!"_ Josette commanded heatedly.

"But allow me to explain," Julia pleaded. "I want to help him. I want to treat him so I can cure him of his vampirism."

Josette stared at her surprised.

_"You... you can lift him of his curse?"_ The ghost was skeptical but a little bit hopeful. _"How do you propose to accomplish that? With magic?"_

"No, with science."

* * *

**To all my readers thanks for following my story. Reviews are welcome!**


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